Harry Potter and the Book of Ages
by Rosina Ferguson
Summary: Following OOtP Harry finds himself captured by DEs and framed for the murder of the Dursleys. Harry escapes and has to evade the Muggle Police and at the same time piece together the puzzle that is his family tree! Now very much AU since the publication
1. Reflections

I now have a Beta, the wonderful Iviolinist, so I am gradually replacing the early chapters with improved versions. Harry and Company still belong, lock, stock and barrel to the superb JKR. Long may she reign!

**Chapter 1 : Reflections **

There seemed no escape. No matter where he went he couldn't get away. Just a few minutes break! He felt his strength dwindling. He'd sought shelter for hours and now his stamina was failing fast.

"Boy! Get in here! You're needed!"

At last Harry was able to stand up straight from his hours of backbreaking labour in Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's back garden. _I don't know about Aunt Petunia winning a prize from the local horticultural society; I reckon that prize should go to me not her!_ **t**hought Harry as he cleared up the tools he had been using and carefully put them away in the shed before going indoors. Harry was taking extreme care with everything from tools to bags of potting compost as he knew his uncle was on tenterhooks these days and likely to blow up at Harry for the slightest perceived misdemeanour. There were not many punishments he could inflict on him as Uncle Vernon was now too frightened of what Harry's "Welcome-home-for-the-summer-committee" would do to him if he so much as laid a single finger on Harry, but that didn't stop Vernon from ranting and raving at the top of his lungs. In fact Harry had heard his uncle's raised voice so much this summer he had begun to wonder if he hadn't had a Sonorus charm cast on him!

Harry stepped gingerly onto the patio and approached the kitchen door; Aunt Petunia scrutinised his appearance to ensure he would not be dropping mud on her sparkling kitchen floor before allowing him to step into the house. Thinking that he would enjoy coming out again after dark to do the watering (there was no hosepipe ban this year) Harry made his way indoors carefully removing his Wellington boots and slipping on an oldvery battered pair of trainers.

Bent double while tying his lacesHarry saw a pair of very large shoes come into his field of vision. Realising in a split second that those shoes definitely did not belong to Aunt Petunia nor were they Uncle Vernon's,and Dudley only wore trainers with Velcro fastening as his fat stomach made it almost impossible for him to even see his feet let alone tie laces_So then to whom did they belong?_

Harry let his gaze travel up from the shoes past the tweed box-pleated skirt and tailored matching jacket taking in the stance of hands on hips, wearing an expression that looked as though something nasty, smelly and very definitely unwanted was on the floor before her was….

"Aunt Marge!" said Harry standing and tripping backwards at the same time landing painfully on his backside on the paved patio.

"Hurry up and get yourself cleaned up. Aunt Marge needs you to run an errand for her," declared Aunt Petunia. Harry could only hear her voice as she was entirely hidden by the enormous frame of Uncle Vernon's sister. Harry almost wanted to smile as he heard the thin reedy voice seemingly come from the enormous rotund body in front of him! _They'd make a good ventriloquist act!_ thought Harry.

Remembering back to the summer before his third year at Hogwarts and the last time Harry had laid eyes on Aunt Marge when he had inadvertently blown her up to monstrous proportions, Harry wondered just how effective the Memory Charm was that had been cast on her. Deciding to play it cool (after all he didn't want another warning from the Improper Use of Magic Office) Harry asked her as inoffensively as he could,** "**How are you,Aunt Marge? Keeping well I hope."

Marge scowled at this unaccustomed behaviour from Harry.

"_It_ seems to be learning some manners at last I see, Petunia," said Marge, rudely ignoring Harry's enquiry as to her state of health. "I take it that school of his, St.Brutus's I think you said it was called, has been complying with your request not to spare the rod! It's as I told you,Petunia, see what a damn good thrashing can do to even the most disobedient and self-willed pup! You have to show them who's boss. Put your foot down and make no bones about it."

All the time Marge had been speaking, she had not taken her eyes off Harry. He could feel his anger rising in his chest, but was determined to control it. He was stronger than she and no matter what Marge said she would not provoke him into doing something that could escalate into another potential disaster. Harry had enough this last year not to want to go down that path again. He could and would control his emotions.

Still feeling hot and thirsty from his gardening, Harry reached to open the dishwasher to get a glass and have a drink of water from the tap behind him when Marge swiped his hand away.

"There's no time for that nowboy! I have an errand for you to run and you'll have to hurry before the shop shuts," she said.

"But it's already gone eight and it'sSunday! All the shops shut at four on Sunday!" replied Harry.

"Don't you answer back to me, boy,or you'll get another dose of what's good for you!" Marge raised her walking stick above her head ready to bring it down on Harry's back.

"Now, now, Marge" blustered Vernon rushing into the kitchen and grasping the raised stick, "the boy hasn't _refused_ to do as you've asked, he's just pointed out a possible problem!" Vernon almost sounded panicky.

"Stupid boy! Of course I thought about that!" **s**pluttered Marge indignantly. "I remember that old cat woman, Mrs. Figg's isn't it, telling me that she knows of a little shop that's open at all sorts of hours that should have what I want. Come to think of it, you can call in on her to see if she wants anything before you go. Get upstairs and clean yourself up before you leave the house. You look a positive disgrace! Don't want the neighbours to see you looking like the down-and-out that you are!"

Harry was about to argue, but thought better of it when he saw the look that Uncle Vernon was giving him. Instead, he simply shrugged his shoulders and went upstairs to the bathroom.

He just couldn't believe his luck!

Stuck at Privet Drive for probably the whole summer with little or no chance of visiting the Burrow, not being allowed to Owl anyone just in case the messages were intercepted by Death Eaters and to cap it all, Aunt Marge had come to visit. Could things get much worse?

_Yes_, thought Harry, _they could_ and unfortunately he could imagine _very_ much worse. At least everyone was alive and well, at least as far as Harry knew they were, as he hadn't heard anything to the contrary.

It was also true, however, that since his return from Hogwarts he had been woken nearly every night by pains in his scar and,try as he might, he just couldn't clear his mind of all thought when he went to bed. Snape had continued to refuse to help Harry with learning Occlumency, but Harry was secretly glad of this.

Whilst acknowledging the very real need for him to block any possible connection with Voldemort, Harry still felt that Snape's lessons had weakened him rather than strengthened his ability to keep Voldemort at bay. Hadn't Harry been able to successfully block the Imperius **C**urse naturally and without any lessons? Hadn't he been able to block Snape's early attempts to gain access to Harry's memories of his encounter with Cho? After weeks of lessons Harry had seemed to be _less_ able to block Snape than he had at the beginning.

Suddenly an excellent idea occurred to Harry and the timing couldn't be better.

Aunt Marge had specifically asked that Harry call in on Mrs. Figg. Harry realised this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up on what was going on in the war against Voldemort and give him a chance to check up on his friends. At the same time, Harry decided, he would ask for some books about Occlumency so that he could read up on the subject during the holidays. Extra study would also help him keep out of Marge's way.

So it was with a sudden spring in his step that Harry ascended the stairs and entered the bathroom.

Harry stood in front of the sink and looked at his reflection in the mirror; this was something he had been carefully avoiding since returning from Hogwarts. Every time he saw a mirror he was reminded of Sirius.

"If only…..!" his thoughts always began.

So many "if only's."

_If only…… I had remembered about the package Sirius had given me sooner!_

_If only…… I had seen the mirror and used it to speak to Sirius after going into Snape's Pensieve I wouldn't still have so many unanswered questions about my mum and dad._

_If only… … I had used the mirror instead of breaking into Umbridge's office then Fred and George might have stayed at Hogwarts and sat their NEWTs!_

_If only…… I had used the mirror to speak to Sirius instead of using the Floo Network, then Kreacher wouldn't have been able to lie to me and I would have known Sirius was safe. There would have been no need to go charging off to the Ministry of Magic and….._

…_..I wouldn't have gotten Sirius killed and my friends so badly hurt!_

Harry gave himself a mental slap around the face. _Pull yourself together,Potter! Thinking like this is not going to bring him back! You need to keep your wits around you, learn all you can and make sure you do everything in your power to stop anything like that happening ever again!_

He quickly washed and,after pulling on a clean t-shirt, he went downstairs to find out exactly what Aunt Marge wanted him to get.

"Dog biscuits! You want me to go trailing the streets at this time of night for dog biscuits!"

"How dare you speak to your **a**unt like that!" spluttered Aunt Marge indignantly. "She and Vernon gave you house-room, boy! I'd think you'd show a bit more gratitude for all that they give you, not kick up a fuss when asked to run one little errand for a house-guest! They feed and clothe you and what do they get in return? Refusal to do one little task when asked!"

_One little task! Yeah, _thought Harry,_ I'd like to see you dragging your great overweight body round the streets of Little Whinging on a hot sticky summer night, after doing a full day's work in the garden with only an apple and a glass of water to keep you going! _

"Petunia, you have the patience of a saint, my dear, but you know you really aren't doing yourself, Vernon or Dudley any favours by continuing to put up with this boy's behaviour each summer. Why don't you just tell that school of his to keep him over the holidays? Perhaps he could earn some money working for the school to repay some of his indebtedness?"

Harry thought of his vault in Gringotts and smiled.

"Oh,so you think that idea is funny, do you? Afraid of a little hard work? Just like your good-for-nothing father!" Marge continued, but Harry was determined her words would not get any reaction from him.

_Keep your cool, Harry! Don't let the old bat get to you!_ he thought to himself.

"Never amounted to anything! Never contributed anything to society!"

_Stay calm! She's not worth it! _

Aunt Marge's rant seemed to go on for hours, but instead of losing his temper Harry, for once, managed to stay calm and simply said, "Time really is getting on, Aunt Marge, and we don't want Ripper to do without his favourite treats now do we?"

At Harry's words Aunt Marge stopped her flow of venom and looked at him with her mouth hanging open. She seemed to have been struck dumb. _Just as though a silencing charm had been cast on her! Did I do that? _thought Harry._ No, I couldn't have, my wand's in my trunk upstairs!_

Aunt Petunia stood up and thrust two £1 coins into Harry's hand with the reminder to check with Mrs. Figg first before she almost bodily pushed Harry out of the door.

Harry's route to Mrs. Figg's took him past the park where Dudley and his gang hung out most evenings. The setting sun appeared to be sitting on the rooftops of the houses on the far side, huge and blood-red casting long shadows over the lush green grass.

In the still night air Harry could pick out the notes of "Greensleeves" as the tinkling tune was played from an ice-cream van driving slowly through the streets of Little Whinging calling the residents to "Stop me and buy one." Images sprung to mind of Aunt Petunia buying Dudley a "Double 99 with chocolate sauce and nuts" while Harry got nothing but a clip round the ear for being cheeky enough to ask for something.

Harry remembered back to one occasion when a complete stranger, seeing Harry's treatment from Aunt Petunia, had objected so strongly that she had been forced to give in and buy him a 30p plain cone – no chocolate and no nuts. Harry remembered enjoying the taste of that forbidden food so much, but then the memory of Uncle Vernon's reaction when they got home came to mind.

That was one occasion when Harry had failed to duck and Vernon had caught him round the back of the head with the book he had been reading. Harry had fallen to the floor seeing stars. He'd dragged himself to his cupboard and lain on his bed, tears streaming down his face. The pain had lasted for two whole days and his teacher had called Aunt Petunia in to see her to ask what was wrong with him. Petunia explained that Harry's clumsiness had caused him to fall and he'd hit his head, but she'd reluctantly agreed to take Harry to see the doctor who diagnosed concussion. His aunt and uncle's reaction to all this was so extreme that no matter what happened after that Harry kept it all to himself and he never saw a doctor again no matter how hurt he had been.

Harry found that these memories had meant that he had walked almost mechanically to the house of Mrs Figg. It was almost exactly a year ago that Harry had learned that Mrs. Figg, who Harry used to think was just a batty old cat-loving lady who babysat him as a child, was in fact a Squib posted by Dumbledore to keep a watchful eye on the growing up Harry. Another "If only" crept to Harry's mind. _If only I had known she was there and a member of the Order of the Phoenix then I wouldn't have felt so alone and isolated!_

Harry brightened at the prospect of being able to get some news of how the others were doing and to pass on some greetings to Ron, Hermione and … he smiled as he thought of her…. to Ginny! More and more often as Harry lay in bed at night (one of the few times he had peace to just lie still and think) he thought of the smiling face of Ginny Weasley.

Ron's words in the Forbidden Forest came back to him as he walked. _"Ginny was best, she got Malfoy - Bat Bogey Hex - it was superb!"_ Oh how he wished he'd been there to see that!

Harry realised that Ron's little sister had surprised him on more than one occasion over the last year and he had to smile as he recalled being on the sharp end of her tongue back in Grimmauld Place. She had been right when she told him he was an idiot for forgetting about her experience of being possessed by Voldemort.

The last time Harry had seen Ginny was on the train home and this led him to wonder if she was really thinking of going out with Dean Thomas or had she simply said that to wind up Ron? _Mind you Dean Thomas is better than that Michael Corner! Ron was right about him… Ginny's far too good for him. _Butthen he remembered that Ron had gone on to say to Ginny, "Just choose someone – _better_ – next time," and then he looked straight at … _ME!_

The more Harry thought about Ginny, the more Ron's words about him breaking up with Cho came back to him. "… you want someone a bit more cheerful." _Well,_ thought Harry, _you'd be hard pushed to find anyone more cheerful than Ginny!_ Could he see Ginny going out with him? She seemed to have well and truly gotten over her crush and this last year Harry had a chance to get to know her a lot better. But would she want to go out with him? Ginny could have the pick of the boys in the school…. _Why should she go out with me?_ thought Harry despondently.

He knew Ginny had a terrible crush on him back in her first year but Hermione had told him that she had "given up" on him; that was apparently the reason why she could talk in front of him now, but hadn't Hermione gone on to say that she "still _likes_ you," but was just liking enough?

His mind was going round and round, thinking about Ginny, thinking of her beautiful smiling face. Despite leaving Privet Drive in a sour mood, being mad at Aunt Petunia and Aunt Marge, Harry now found himself smiling like an idiot just at the thought of Ginny Weasley. _God, if Ron could see me now!_ he thought as he walked along clinking the two pound coins together as he walked to Mrs. Figg's _Smiling like an idiot just 'cosI'm thinking about his sister!_ He went on to think of Ron and Hermione's reactions if he were to tell them he fancied Ginny just as he turned the corner into Wisteria Walk.

The sun had set now and the sky looked beautiful with red and fuchsia streaks blazing across it cut in half by the almost pure white streak left behind by a jet. Probably just more holidaymakers going off for their two weeks in the sun in complete ignorance of the fact that, as far as the wizarding world was concerned, a war was going on.

How Harry envied them their ignorance!

It was hard to reconcile the war with the normalcy he could witness around him. Even Mrs. Figg's house was very ordinary looking. A three-bedroom semi-detached house built in the 1930's and typical of its time, not having been modernised with the addition of double glazing, a garage and conservatory like so many of its neighbours.

It was true that the house looked like it belonged to a very ordinary and elderly spinster lady whose main interest was going to church on Sunday and looking after her innumerable cats.

It was also true, however, that this appearance was very carefully cultivated, for the lady whose home it had been for the past 16 years was anything but ordinary. Arabella Figg was a member of a secret underground movement against the most feared and one of the most powerful wizards in the world.

Arabella Figg was born to parents who were both magical, but unfortunately Arabella was born without an ounce of magic in her. To many Squibs this would be a cause of much hand-wringing and agonizing in the order of, "Why me?" But oh no, Arabella Figg was made of much stronger stuff than that!

Her brother was none other than Albus Dumbledore himself and, to Arabella, it made sense that the magical ability in her family went to the one with the ability and brains to use and apply it, so she developed within herself other skills with which to aid her brothers.

Arabella's very ordinariness within the Muggle world had enabled her to stay close to her charge: one Harry James Potter and to be a part of the band of witches and wizards known as the Order of the Phoenix. The Dursleys of course had no idea that Mrs. Figg was a **S**quib or had any connection to the magical world and therefore had no hesitation in asking Harry to call there first.

Harry was still thinking of Ginny as he crossed the road and opened the gate to enter Mrs. Figg's front garden. He was not surprised to see her look through the net curtains at her front window to see who was knocking at her door before opening it. He was surprised when the door was opened and he was grabbed and dragged into the house!

"Harry! What the hell are you doing wandering the streets at this time of night?" came the unmistakable voice of Bill Weasley.

"This time of night?" queried Harry in return. "It's only a quarter past nine for goodness sake! And anyway I wouldn't be out at all if my aunt Marge had remembered to pack her dog's favourite treats. She and Aunt Petunia have sent me to go to the shop Mrs. Figg uses to get some _before _it gets too late and she wanted me to call in to see if Mrs. Figg wanted anything while I'm there. _So don't go blaming me for being out!_"

Harry was surprised that he had become angry so quickly. Ever since coming home from school for the summer Harry had been trying to keep that temper of his under control. If he hadn't lost his temper so much last year and done what he wanted to do instead of thinking things through first, so many things might have been so different. He took a deep breath, steadying himselfand said as calmly as he could, "Good evening, Mrs. Figg. Would you like anything from the shop before it closes tonight?"

Mrs. Figg was so taken aback by Harry's sudden change in attitude that she muttered a quiet, "No, thank you," in surprise as Harry turned on his heel and was back out the door before Bill had time to pose his next question.

"Well, what do you make of that?"

Arabella's only reply was to raise a surprised eyebrow.

-o-O-o-

He was pleased with the way he had been able to control his temper when he had been so close to losing it. _Ginny would be proud of me,_ he thought to himself.

_Ginny!_

Again his thought**s** had gone straight back to Ginny and he realised suddenly how much her opinion _did_ matter to him. Perhaps it was seeing Bill Weasley with his long red hair that brought Ginny to mind. It was only then that Harry started to wonder _why_ Bill Weasley was at Mrs. Figg's, but as Harry continued to walk to the shop he supposed that it shouldn't be too odd that members of the Order called in to Mrs. Figg's. After all Mundungus Fletcher had been based there when it had been his turn to keep an eye on Harry last summer **–**or rather he _should_ have been keeping an eye on Harry and not off buying a load of dodgy cauldrons. Harry couldn't help but smile as he thought of Mundungus. Every time he saw him he couldn't help but think of a certain famous character that he'd seen on TV in his aunt's house beforeHogwarts.

_Yes_, thought Harry, _Dung certainly does remind me of Delboy Trotter from_ _Only Fools and Horses_, and he smiled to himself as he thought of Delboy sitting astride a beaten up broomstick smoking a pipe and flogging thin-bottomed cauldrons to unsuspecting witches in Diagon Alley. It was while he had this happy and incongruous picture in his mind that he pushed open the door of "All 'Ours" the little newsagents-cum-supermarket at the far corner of Wisteria Walk as it joined Church Road.

It was a typical single-fronted shop with the owners living in a small flat upstairs, the kind of shop where you could buy everything from a postage stamp to a packet of nappies and food of all descriptions, but at a price.

When Harry found the section selling pet food he wasn't surprised that they didn't stock _exactly_ the brand of dog biscuits he'd been asked to get. Harry supposed he had better go home with something rather than nothing at all. He selected the only size they had in the only variety they had. He thought of the reaction he would get when he got home, "What do you call this? Ripper won't eat that rubbish! Might have known HE'd come back with the wrong item, Petunia. A complete and utter wastrel just like his good-for-nothing father!"

_Mind you_ Harry thought, _**i**t would probably be just as bad if I went home empty-handed. "Couldn't you use your common-sense, boy? Ripper isn't some pampered pooch, it's food he needs not some fancy brand name! Why didn't you buy what they had in stock?_" With Marge it was always a case of heads you lose – tails I win as far as she was concerned.

Harry made up his mind. _No matter what she says to me this time I won't let her get to me._ He walked passed the shelves of dusty tins and sweets reduced in price as they had passed their "best by" date to the long counter that filled most of the back wall of the shop. Placing the dog biscuits beside the till on the counter, Harry reached into the front pocket of his baggy and torn jeans (he couldn't use the two back pockets as Dudley had worn great holes in them, but he had been too fat to use the front pockets) and pulled out the two pound coins handing them automatically to the cashier without even glancing up at him. The till registered the sale and Harry held out his hand expecting to feel coins fall into it; what he didn't expect was for one of the coins to be a silver Sickle.


	2. Captured

This is thenew and improved version of Chapter 2...

Chapter 2 : Captured

Harry felt the all too familiar jerk behind his navel as the Portkey activated.

The swirl of colours and sounds faded and Harry fell forward onto his knees on cold wet grass, his glasses falling from his face. Trying hard not to panic, he ran his fingers over the grass until he felt the familiar frames.He picked them up and placed them on his face and looked around through the smeary wet lenses.

Harry was in the centre of a field,but he was not alone; he was surrounded by at least a dozen black-robed and masked Death Eaters. He quickly registered one fact – _they all had their wands trained on him_!

The sun had finally slid beneath the horizon and all that remained was the deceptively warm and welcoming glow in the far distance. The field was lit by the flickering orange-red light of flaming torches held by shrouded dark-cloaked figures whose features were hidden by their raised hoods. The torch-bearing sentinels were standing in an outer ring some ten or more feet beyond the Death Eaters. Reckoning there were two torch-bearers for each of the thirty or more Death Eaters, Harry realised that Voldemort's efforts in building up his forces had been far more successful than the Order was aware.

Harry knew that he had to get away and get away quickly.

Moody had drummed into Harry that he must never go out unarmed and it had been an automatic action for him to tuck his wand into his sleeve when he had changed to go out but what good would that do him now?

One wand up against so many – he didn't stand a chance!

He stood and kept his wand concealed, thinking that with a bit of luck the odds might change in his favour. Well, with quite a lot of luck really.

One of the anonymous number stepped forward and raised his wand to cast a spell. Harry prepared himself for the worst and expected to feel the extreme pain of the Cruciatus curse or one of the other agonisingly painful spells the Death Eaters were so fond of, but no…..

Long thin cords sprang from the Death Eater's wand _(was that a snake**'**s head he could see grasped in the Death Eater**'**s hand?)_ and Harry found himself tightly bound from shoulders to ankles. Immediately Harry fell to the ground immobilised.

Another 'If only' sprang to mind. _If only I had learned to become an Animagus, I could escape just likeWormtail, _thought Harry. This,however, was another skill he had yet to master…. if he ever got the chance.

Lying flat on his back in the long grass, all he could do was stare up at the clear bright sky. _Mars is bright tonight,_ thought Harry recalling Firenze's words, _and so is that jet stream_.

Harry suddenly realised that he could see the same streak in the sky from the holidaymakers jet that he had seen on his way to the shop, so that could only mean that he was still in Little Whinging.

A masked figure bent over Harry and a quick search revealed Harry's wand which was taken ….. along with a cutting of his hair. Knowing of only one reason to take his hair, Harry guessed that it was to be used in some Polyjuice Potion and that someone would be impersonating him.

Struggling even more in his bonds, Harry could feel panic start to rise inside him. Someone was going to be going about looking just like him and with his wand. Harry knew nothing good could come of this but still could not break free.

The robes of another masked Death Eater approached Harry slowly, removing his mask as he stepped into a pool of torchlight.

It was Lucius Malfoy.

"I hope you are feeling _very_ uncomfortable, Mr. Potter. It's not much fun being restrained, is it? When Dumbledore tied me up in that Anti-Dispparition charm in the Ministry last month, I didn't like it much either nor did I enjoy my brief stay in Azkaban. The Dark Lord,of course, awards his faithful followers; as you can see I am free once more to do my Lord's work. How soon do you think your friends will rescue you, Mr. Potter? Not for a very long time if I have anything to do with it. You will suffer as I suffered, I shall see to that!"

Harry braced himself, expecting indescribable agony, but Malfoy simply pointed that snake-headed wand at him and quietly said, "_Stupefy!_" and Harry's world went black.

-o-O-o-

Harry felt extremely sick, thirsty and hungry when he awoke. He had expected to still be bound hand and foot and to be lying in a damp dungeon somewhere, but for a fleeting moment he thought he was back at Hogwarts.

He was lying on a four-poster bed with hangings of green and silver. Harry had to part them so that he could throw up on the floor. Shivering violently and wondering if he had somehow been poisoned as well as imprisoned, Harry laid back on the bed in an effort to stop his teeth chattering. Confused by the sudden turn of events, Harry looked around the luxuriously appointed room.

Far from being a dungeon Harry guessed he must be on an upper floor as the window was level with the treetops visible outside. Apart from the very comfortable bed, the room contained a large leather chesterfield sofa and two matching armchairs. These were all grouped around a magnificent fireplace with a large and elaborately carved mantelpiece. Harry expected to see tapestries or paintings hung on the walls, but they were strangely bare.

After a few minutes a house-elf popped into being at the side of the bed and wordlessly cleared up the vomit while a second elf placed a tray of wonderful smelling food and drink on the bedside table before Disapparating once more.

As he picked up his glasses where they had been moved beside the tray, Harry saw a covered plate of bacon, sausages, eggs and tomatoes. There was a rack of toast with dishes of butter and marmalade and a pot of tea for one with milk and sugar.

_Well I expect they are just giving the condemned man a hearty breakfast_,thought Harry, but he thought too of what Moody would say if he ate or drank anything given by a known enemy. Moody's advice had saved Harry's bacon once before and he wouldn't ignore it now.

Turning away from the temptation on the tray, Harry continued his survey of his surroundings.

The room had a high ceiling with an ornate and many-branched candelabrum at its centre, its light reaching into the farthest corners.

He went to stand up and walk to the window to try and get his bearings, but as soon as he put his feet over the side of the bed he was struck by wave after wave of nausea and he was forced to lie down again.

_Whatever they've poisoned me with I hope it wears off soon,_ thought Harry as he laid his head down on the pillow once more. He closed his eyes to try and calm himself and realised that the canopy of the bed also had light coming from it … bright penetrating light that seemed to sear through his eyelids and into his brain.

Placing one arm over his face to try and get some respite Harry tried to formulate a plan of escape, but he quickly realised that he had too little information about his surroundings and feeling as sick as he was he wasn't going to be able to do anything.

_Sleep, that's what I need to do, sleep. Rest and recharge the body and hope I'll feel better when I wake._ Harry turned over ontohis stomach and buried his face in his pillow and tried to shut out the world.

-o-O-o-

The sun was high in the sky and bright sunshine was streaming through the beautifully proportioned windows hung with thick dark green velvet curtains. The sunshine was also going straight into Harry's eyes as he awoke.

Once more he sat up groggily and found he had to reach for his glasses (someone had obviously removed them while he slept) from the bedside table. The tray of breakfast had been removed and in its place was a tray containing a basket of rolls, a covered cheese board with a selection of cheeses, dishes of butter and pickles and a large bowl of delicious looking fruit. A glass and a jug of what looked like pumpkin juice was next to the tray.

Harry sat up and was rubbing his right forearm with his left hand as he swung his legs out of bed once more. Again the world spun round and round, again he felt the extreme nausea he'd felt earlier. Lying back, Harry rubbed once more at his arm as he felt irritation there. Cautiously he sat up and pushed up the sleeve of the sweatshirt he was wearing. There on the inside of his right arm was a patch of angry red skin.

"What the….?"

Rubbing at the skin wondering what had caused the itching, but guessing that some potion had been used there, Harry quickly raised his head when he heard the sound of the door being opened.

Into the room strode Lucius Malfoy, arrogance and supreme confidence screaming from his poise and bearing, Malfoy walked over to the huge fireplace and pointed his wand into the grate, flames immediately roared to life.

"Feeling comfortable, Mr. Potter? Settling into your new surroundings? I do hope not!"

Harry screwed up his face in puzzlement at Malfoy's words.

"Are you truly aware of your situation?" Malfoy continued. "I hardly think that you are. You see, Potter, while you languish here in the lap of luxury you are also being sought by the Ministry of Magic. Why, you may ask, am I telling you this? Well you see, one Harry James Potter was last night witnessed performing dark magic… the _darkest _magic right in front of two members of the Order of the Phoenix! Yes, Potter, Lord Voldemort is aware of the Order's existence and Dumbledore's feeble efforts at rallying support against him, but his best efforts will be in vain. Dumbledore depended so much on his 'Saviour' … you, Potter, … coming along to save the day! But no more, Potter, no more! The wizarding world will turn its back on you now, no not even that Muggle loving fool will make any effort to save you, not when you have been witnessed committing such unforgivable crimes."

Harry's confusion only grew …. Unforgivable crimes? What did he mean?

Malfoy drew a copy of the Daily Prophet from inside his robes, strode over to Harry's bed and nonchalantly threw it ontothe covers before letting out a roar of laughter.

"By the way, just in case you thought you might try and escape I warn you now, this fireplace is not connected to the Floo Network so you should just lie back and accept your fate. Not that you have any choice! I once said to you, Potter, that one day you would meet the same sticky end as your parents and that day will soon be here!" he snarled. "But not before the Dark Lord ensures you suffer as he suffered," added Malfoy before sweeping disdainfully from the room.

Fearing another Portkey, Harry looked down at the paper without touching it.

HARRY POTTER - THE BOY-WHO-KILLED

The headlines screamed at Harry.

The article went on…

Death and destruction came to the town of Little Whinging, Surrey, last night. The peace of this suburban community was shattered as four bodies were found in the burned out ruins of the home of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

Potter (16) had been thought of as the possible saviour of the wizarding world, but this hope was cruelly shattered as witnesses claim that the Hogwarts student was seen to cast the Dark Mark in the sky over his former home. Experts from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad claim that the four bodies were killed by _Avada Kedavra_ and if tests confirm that Potter did in fact cast the spell, he will receive an automatic life sentence in Azkaban.

Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge stated that he never did believe in Potter's innocence at his hearing last August. "I said then that he was guilty and I still say that he is guilty. Too many times has Dumbledore bailed that boy out of trouble, but we have witnesses this time and witnesses from Dumbledore's own Order of the Phoenix to boot!"

The witnesses, presently being held in protective custody by the MLES, were one William Weasley (29 of Ottery St.Catchpole, Devon) and Mrs. Arabella Figg (aged 69 of Little Whinging). Ironically it was the same Arabella Figg who stood as witness to Potter's innocence when charged with illegally using the Patronus Charm last August (for a recap on that charge see page 5). Mr. Weasley attempted to disarm and capture Potter and, although he managed to escape, he did so without his wand. Experts from the MLES are currently running tests to determine exactly what spells Potter had cast thus obtaining irrefutable evidence of his guilt.

Harry slumped back onto the pillows. _Murder!_ They were accusing him of murder! Well the one place the MLES wouldn't look for him was in the hideout of the Death Eaters, not that that would help him any. If he managed to escape he'd end up having to run from the MLES as well as from the Death Eaters.

_Oh joy, isn't life just grand? What other challenges are going to be thrown at me?_ Harry wondered.

Lying on his back the sweat now running down his face, Harry tried to think of what Sirius would say if he were here. After all Sirius had been on the run for two years after escaping from Azkaban, he surely would have been in tricky situations like this, what would he have done? Cursing again the fact that while he had the chance to talk to Sirius when he had stayed in Grimmauld Place, Harry in fact had asked his godfather very little of what he had gone through and now he would never have that chance.

Sirius was gone.

Sirius had spent 12 years in Azkaban, but then Sirius had been an Animagus and had been able to change into his animal form, that of a huge black dog, and thereby escaped the worse effects of the dementors.

_What if I end up in Azkaban?_ worried Harry, but he quickly added, _Fool, what are you worrying about Azkaban for? The Death Eaters are probably going to do you in long before then!_

Turning his thoughts back to his immediate problem of escape, Harry tried once more to check out his surroundings.

The feeling of nausea had gone. _Perhaps all the sweating from the fire's heat has sweated some of the poison out of my body,_ thought Harry as he realised he could stand on the bed and not feel dizzy, but as soon as his foot touched the floor….._Okay, I guess that means that the floor is enchanted to cause nausea to keep me in the bed._ Harry lay back and counted up to 200 breathing slowly and steadily until the world steadied once more.

_Shoes…. where are my shoes?_ Harry hung himself over the edge of the mattress, but there was no sign of his shoes anywhere. No shoes! What a simple, but Harry had to admit effective, way of reducing a prisoner's ability to escape! Standing up on the bed again, Harry was able to look out of the high windows to either side of the four-poster; he could make out beautiful landscaped parklands surrounding the house.

He appeared to be in one wing of a large Georgian country house. The way he was strutting around as though he owned the place Harry guessed this was in fact Malfoy's mansion, Malfoy Manor, and that would mean he was in…. Wiltshire. The Daily Prophet reported that Malfoy's home was in Wiltshire when Umbridge's appointment as Hogwarts High Inquisitor appeared in the paper last year. That's where I must be then and that means that I'm not that far from the Burrow.

Thoughts of the Weasleys came to mind quickly, but just as quickly came the question, _Will they believe as Bill does that I'm a murderer? Or will they help me to uncover the truth and prove my innocence?_

Survival! That's the name of the game, thought Harry. Standing up on the bed Harry looked around to see what resources he had to hand.

Looking at the bed head above the pillows there were a number of small tapestries protected behind glass; the centre oval was about 12 inches by 10 inches and it was surrounded by at least ten small circular panels, each about four inches in diameter. Taking the pillowcase off the bottom pillow, Harry carefully held it over the largest oval. It was tougher than he thought, as the glass was convex as well as oval, and it took three or four attempts before it at last broke into three large pieces and one smaller one; miraculously all the pieces stayed in the frame. Protecting his hands with the pillowcase once more, Harry carefully lifted out the smallest piece. It was triangular and the two long edges were wickedly sharp, the third side had been part of the edge and was bound with fabric tape glued to it. It took some tugging to finally remove it and using the Daily Prophet (excluding the front page and page 5) Harry wrapped it so he could hold it like a knife without cutting himself. All the knocking and tugging at the bedhead had loosened one of the small circular glass covers and Harry picked one up and wrapped it carefully,tucking it into the pillowcase.

The inside of the ceiling of the four-poster was lined with what Harry could only assume was enchanted canvas of some sort. It glowed with a very bright light, so bright that it hurt his eyes to look at it for long. Glad that he had grown a few inches over the summer (despite the meagre portions provided by Aunt Petunia) Harry found that if he stood on the pillows he could reach the canvas. He began to cut it away from the frame with the glass fragment. It was tough going and made his arms ache from reaching above his head,but finally he'd cut away a fairly large piece that continued to glow so he tucked that too into his makeshift rucksack.

Climbing up through the hole, Harry was able to sit on the top frame of the bed. The bed was positioned against the outside wall of the house with the bed head between two very tall elegant Georgian windows. The dark green velvet curtains were tied back on either side, but had cords attached to them so they could be closed;they looked as though they hadn't been touched in years, the outside edges of the pleats being faded and the inside retaining the original colour. _Those silk cords could come in mighty handy_, thought Harry, so he reached up to cut as long a length as he could.

He had just moved the top of the curtain when Harry saw they were infested with doxies. Harry remembered how careful Mrs. Weasley had been when dealing with doxies in Grimmauld Place; their sharp teeth were poisonous and they'd used Doxycide on them. Not having any anti-venom, Harry gave the doxies the respect they deserved. Dropping back down onto the bed, he removed two more pillowcases and, once he was back on the bed head, he used one to grab hold of a couple of doxies and tie them securely inside the other. Tucking the bundle of cloth inside the first pillowcase, Harry at last was able to cut the cords and stash them in the makeshift rucksack.

Balanced on top of the bed frame, one hand holding tight to the curtains, Harry was able to reach across to the catch that secured the window. Fortunately it was a sash window, but two large screws fixed about three inches above the lower sash meant that it would only open enough to let in fresh air, but not enough to let Harry escape.

If the bottom window couldn't go up though, Harry realised, the top window could go down.

Stretching across once more Harry pushed and pushed until he thought his fingers would break, but it wouldn't budge. Standing precariously on top of the bed frame Harry reached up to the curtain pole and found that it was more than strong enough to hold his weight. It was a large brass pole with very strong fixings to the wall. He grabbed hold of it and began to make his way across to the middle of the window, the pillowcase slung over his shoulder. From this position Harry now found he could use his feet to push down on the top sash. Slowly, oh so slowly, it eventually moved down about eight inches, but it was more than enough for Harry's slim frame to slip through.

Thankful for his years of Quidditch training which had made him very supple and wiry, Harry slipped his legs through the gap and after much twisting and squirming, he was able to release the curtain pole and reach one hand through the window to grasp the thick ivy covering the outside of the house.

The ivy stems were thick, old and twisted and gave Harry plenty of hand and footholds to assist with his passage towards the roof. (He had originally planned to climb down, but seeing light spilling out from the rooms below on the terrace, Harry decided to go up first.) The ivy was dark green variegated with silvery grey, but intertwined with it was another plant that Harry quickly recognised from Herbology.

Giving thanks to Professor Sprout, Harry moved towards the nearest strands of the whispering vine. One of the main uses of this wonderful plant was for communication, indeed it was strands of whispering vine that made up the main part of Fred and George's highly useful Extendable Ears that had come in so handy over the last year.

Harry reached over and held a leaf to his ear, immediately being able to hear all that was being discussed in the room below.

Harry could make out the soft silky tones of Lucius Malfoy and, although his tones were soft and silky, the words were harsh and cruel.

"Soon the time will come when Fudge and the Ministry will come crawling on bended knees, pleading with the Dark Lord for assistance. As far as the rest of the wizarding world is concerned, Harry Potter has finally gone berserk and broken free of Dumbledore's control. He's gone rogue and yet still Dumbledore won't hear a thing against him, so who can Fudge turn to? Why he will turn to me! Yes, Bella, I have been carefully cultivating Fudge for many years now and he is almost ripe for the picking.

He showed last year just how willing he is to believe in his own judgment and discard the opinions of those around him. Such an arrogant self-centred fool he is. It was all going so well until Dumbledore turned up at the Ministry. Yes, it was a pity that Fudge witnessed the Dark Lord's brief appearance, but no matter. A carefully cast Memory Charm and he was all too willing to believe it was all a trick by Dumbledore to try and regain some of his lost power."

At that moment Harry heard a door open and a voice announce, "Your guests have arrived, m'Lord, I have shown them into the library as instructed."

"Thank you, Carstairs, please go and tell my wife so that she may entertain our guests until my arrival."

"Very good, m'Lord."

Harry heard the door close and Malfoy speak once more, "If there's one thing your dear sister is good for, Bella,it is playing the hostess. She can be charm personified when she chooses, but what she lacks is _passion_. That is one thing you have always had in plenty, my dear, is it not?"

Footsteps were heard to cross the floor and the sound of a hand striking a cheek.

"Yes, I am passionate, Lucius, you are quite right. I am passionate in my desire to serve one lord and one lord only. My life, my body, my very soul belongs to the Dark Lord and you should remember that! You chose my dear sister many years ago, Lucius, and she has served you well, given you a son and heir and provided you with the perfect position in society to enable you to carry out the Dark Lord's will. Do not be so ready to discard her now! You know my family motto, do you not? '_Toujour Pur,_' always pure, and that includes our hatred of our enemies. You do not wish to make me an enemy, do you, Lucius?" Now it was Bellatrix's voice that was silky, but the tones were decidedly dangerous.

Harry supposed the two of them must have left the room together as he heard no more.

Climbing steadily higher, Harry came at last to the stone balustrade that ran round the top of the house.

Peering over the top he could see someone who could only be Goyle Senior standing guard with a pair of omnioculars in his hand. Ducking down quickly, Harry climbed back down the ivy to a point where he could hook his left leg behind a particularly thick branch, freeing his hands to reach for his makeshift rucksack. Carefully Harry removed the pillowcase containing the two doxies and slung the remaining bag back over his shoulder.

Back up the ivy he went as silently as he could manage. The sun was dropping towards the horizon once more and Goyle Senior, showing an appreciation of the beauty of the sunset that surprised Harry, was standing gazing at the splendour of the sky. Harry didn't waste this unexpected opportunity and he hopped nimbly over the balustrade, dropping into a crouch on the other side. The roof had narrow stone walkways around the edge and in the centre were a number of glazed skylights, some quite simple, some very ornate like miniature conservatory roofs. Harry crouched down out of Goyle's sight and looked through the glass into the room below.

It obviously was the library. The room was two storeys high and had a wide balcony running all the way round the inside with a spiral staircase down to the main floor level. It was beautifully proportioned and contained many thousands of books and, Harry guessed, a good number of them would probably belong in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library. An impressive stone fireplace filled one wall flanked by two leather couches.

In the centre of the library was a huge table with a map of the whole of the UK on it. It seemed to be an enormous version of the Marauders Map with labelled dots moving across it. While Harry was staring at it and wishing he could see the details more clearly, he suddenly remembered the omnioculars Goyle was holding and wished he had them instead. What he did have, however, and which had obviously been overlooked by his captors, was one of Fred and George's Extendable Ears tucked in his pocket. _Thank goodness it looked just like a ball of pink string_, thought Harry. Unwinding the ball, Harry found that he could wiggle one end down through a crack in the glass and was able to lower it into the room. Sticking the other end in his ear Harry was able to listen in on the conversation in the room below.

"…… should have the desired effect. Fudge is due to address the final Sitting of the House on the night of the 1st August. The Parliament won't meet again until 24th September, after the summer recess; that gives us almost two months to make sure everything is in place before the start of the Autumn Sitting.

The Dark Lord will arrive at the Circle at fifteen minutes to midnight on the night of the Equinox, 24th September,and he demands that everything be in place for the ceremony to take place at midnight precisely. We have Potter, but we still need his sword, the talisman, the staff and the book. Once the ceremony has been conducted the Dark Lord will be invincible. No matter what Dumbledore tries, he will not be able to stop the Dark Lord once he has absorbed Potter's magical core.

Progress reports please, Ladies and Gentlemen…….."


	3. Escape

Chapter 3 : Escape 

Harry had heard Malfoy's words as clearly as if he had been standing next to him, but what good was this information if he was powerless to act on it? He needed to get back to Dumbledore and he needed to get there sooner rather than later.

Winding up his Extendable Ear and stuffing it back into the pocket of his jeans, Harry silently reached into his bag and gripped the doxies through the cotton pillowcase. After a couple of minutes, Harry judged the distance between him and Goyle and tossed the doxies right at him.

His aim was still good – just like the time he tossed a firework in Goyle Junior's cauldron of Swelling Solution back in his second year – the doxies landed bang on target! Goyle's face!

The doxies did what doxies do – they sank their sharp teeth into the first bit of flesh they saw and their venom made Goyle scream in agony. Thrashing his arms around and trying ineffectually to pull the maddened little creatures off, Goyle stumbled backwards, tripped and toppled over the balustrade. Harry's heart felt sickened when he heard the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the ground. Looking briefly over the balustrade, he saw Goyle's splayed body on the terrace with a spreading pool of blood catching the last rays of the setting sun.

He ducked back down, afraid he'd be seen if anyone glanced up at the roof. Someone was bound to come up in the next few minutes so it didn't give him much time.

Goyle had dropped the omnioculars and Harry quickly picked them up and, risking being seen from within the library, he stood up and focused them on the table down below. Pressing the record button on the side, he was able to scan across the table and zoom in on all the names and locations. Once he was satisfied that he had it all safely recorded, he turned to the people in the room zooming in on them one by one. Although Harry only knew Malfoy, MacNair, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange and a couple of the others by name, Harry felt sure that he had seen some of their faces in the Daily Prophet over the last year or so. No doubt Dumbledore would know them all and would find their allegiance to Voldemort of paramount interest.

Voices could now be heard on the terrace below and Harry was able to pick out Malfoy's shout for someone to "Check on Potter!" His time was up! It would surely only be a few minutes before his absence was detected and the search started.

_If only I had my Firebolt!_ thought Harry. Knowing that even if he had his wand, his Firebolt was too far away for a Summoning Charm so Harry looked around to search for any way to escape.

_I can't go down the ivy now; the terrace is swarming with Death Eaters and their lackeys. Can't fly without a broom. Shame there isn't a hippogriff or thestrel around when I need one or even Fawkes._ Yes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix would certainly come in handy right now, but he was back at Hogwarts with the Headmaster.

Harry had gone all around the roof trying to see if there was another way to the ground when he spotted a strand of whispering vine that had snaked up over the balustrade and bridged the gap between the roof and the nearby treetops. He knew from Herbology that the vine was exceptionally strong as well as being a good communicator; in fact it was the closely packed tightly wound strands that made listening through it so easy, but would it be strong enough to hold Harry's weight?

_Well,_ Harry thought, _I can stay here and be recaptured or I can give it a go. The worst that can happen is that I fall to the ground and break something (done that once before and don't fancy doing it again) just hope it isn't my back! Still it can't be any worse than what Voldemort's planning for me._

Harry carefully stowed the Omnioculars into the pillowcase whilst at the same time removing the second length of the cord taken from the curtains. Harry tied the ends of the cord together making a circle and swung his legs over the balustrade. Harry passed the circle of cord over the vine so that a loop hung over each side through which he passed his wrists; taking a deep breath, he dropped over and started to slide down into the trees.

As he was sliding, the cord was severing several leaves from the vine and they fell silently to the ground.

_Please don't look up!_ Harry prayed as he travelled the 60-odd feet to the treetops, but, like the vine, his luck seemed to hold up and he was able to gain a footing without attracting attention.

_But what to do now?_

Should he make his way down the tree to the ground and get away on foot as quickly as possible?

Or should he stay where he was?

Deciding to stay hidden in the canopy of the trees while he observed the actions of his pursuers, Harry used the cord to secure himself to the tree trunk. The last thing he wanted was to fall asleep and drop like a stone to the ground. He settled himself to watch once more using the Omnioculars.

The hue and cry seemed to die down a couple of hours later, but not before Harry had heard Lucius Malfoy screaming blue murder at someone. A few minutes later, Harry was aware of Voldemort's towering fury when he felt his scar searing with pain. Harry closed his eyes and could see Malfoy kneeling before Voldemort, his towering rage breaking over Malfoy like a storm tossed waves crashing upon the shore and he couldn't help but grin. When he heard Voldemort cast the _Cruciatus Curse_ on the crouching figure before him, however, the grin was wiped from Harry's face as a wave of agony broke over him and his world went black.

-o-O-o-

It was many hours later that Harry finally regained consciousness. He was still secure in the treetop with his sack of acquisitions safe at his side and the sun was rising in a pale opalescent sky.

Upon waking, Harry wondered where on earth he was. All he could see were the leaves of the tree he was in. _Good thing I tied myself to the tree or I would have hit the ground head first!_ thought Harry. With a minimum of movement, he raised the omnioculars to his eyes and checked for the enemy.

_Odd, _he thought, s_urely they would have left someone behind to check for me?_ It's what he would have done, but then he always thought that Ron was right when he said that most Death Eaters were one Knut short of a Sickle.

Harry used the omnioculars again to plan an escape route away from Malfoy Manor. Searching the parkland from his treetop vantage point, Harry was surprised to see what looked like ……

_A Muggle caravan and camp site?_

Harry just couldn't believe his luck! It was the perfect place to get lost in, as Harry knew the Death Eaters would stick out like the proverbial sore thumb there, and Harry felt sure that this close to whatever Voldemort, had planned he wouldn't risk drawing Muggle attention.

Harry checked his bearings before making his way carefully and silently to the ground, deciding to stay within the cover of the trees down to the ornamental lake. He planned to follow the shoreline to where the lake flowed into a river that meandered through a couple of fields before becoming the border of the campsite. Reaching the water's (ap) edge, Harry drank his fill. He couldn't remember ever having been as thirsty as he was right now.

Deciding that his scent and footprints would be less easily tracked if he stayed in the water, Harry stepped into the freezing cold river turning downstream towards the Muggles.

It was hard going walking barefoot along the riverbed, but at least his tracks couldn't be followed as easily – he hoped! Hadn't he seen this tactic used in loads of old films on TV, surely it must be right? He walked onwards checking regularly to see if anyone was in sight, Harry remembered to check the air as well because near to the Manor the Death Eaters could use brooms with impunity due to the height of the surrounding trees. _Once I reach the open fields I should be safer from aerial attack_, Harry thought, but he would also be easier to spot.

Harry was desperately tired and wanted to rest, but knew that if he did, he would be all too readily re-captured. He had to keep going until he found some shelter. He pushed himself onwards knowing that since he had not eaten for two days his energy wouldn't last out much longer.

At last the river passed under a small hump-backed bridge which carried the road passed the camp site. Unfortunately, the bridge also had a very new looking grid of ironwork stretching from beneath the arch down into the water. Harry's escape route meant that he had no choice but to leave the riverbed and climb the slippery fern-covered bank. Once he had managed that, he had to climb over the high stone walls that surrounded the Malfoy Manor Estate, cross the road, and climb a second lower wall before he could drop back down to the river.

Through the arch Harry could see the neat rows of caravans, some with lines of washing outside, and his heart skipped a beat. So close, he was so close.

_Please don't let me be caught now. If I can just get to the caravans I'm bound to find somewhere to hide, _thought Harry.

With a great deal of effort and after having fallen back down to the river's edge at least twice, Harry at last managed to stand atop the riverbank a climb of only ten or twelve feet, but it felt much, much higher. The grass here was much higher and felt pleasant on Harry's poor abused feet and he stood a moment getting his breath back before pressing on to the next task.

From here Harry could see that the estate wall was a good ten or twelve feet high as well. How on earth was he going to climb that? He could follow it until he came to a gate, but he imagined that Malfoy would have guards posted on each one. So he had no choice, up and over it had to be, but how?

Walking through the long grass trying to think of ways to get over this seemingly insurmountable problem, Harry suddenly let out a scream of pain and fell forward. More pain as Harry was stung over and over again.

He quickly pushed himself up onto his knees and looked down.

He was in a patch of nettles and, being barefoot, the nettles had stung his feet and ankles and they were rapidly swelling. His hands and the side of his neck were also stung and the pain was horrendous.

_Dock leaves, I need to find dock leaves!_ Knowing that wherever nettles grew, dock leaves would also grow, Harry started searching for the large leafed plant so he could quickly get relief from the pain. He found some near the foot of the wall and he also found what looked like the old grid from under the bridge.

_Thank goodness for lazy workmen,_ thought Harry. It would be perfect for him to use to climb up and over the wall. Once he had used enough of the dock leaves to at least reduce the pain from the nettles, Harry set to moving the old grid to a position where he could use it. The rusty old iron cut into his feet terribly, making them bleed profusely.

_Well there's not much I can do about disguising my scent trail now. Still once I'm in the campsite it should be less easy to follow._

Standing on the top of the grid, Harry readied himself to go over the top and found the top of the wall had broken glass embedded in it. _Of course, it couldn't be just plain bricks could it, oh no much too easy!_ Harry thought.

Looking around, Harry could see a load of rubbish caught in the gridwork under the bridge. He slid back down the bank and ploughed into the water once more. The icy water brought some blessed relief to his sore feet and he splashed some up on the hot and stinging sores on his face and neck.

Among the rubbish were some empty cardboard boxes, but they seemed to have little substance to them and tore at the slightest touch. Harry searched on and underneath the remains of a front car bumper where he found something that he thought would do nicely.

Harry struggled up the bank once more, this time dragging with him a rubber car mat. Deciding he didn't want to cut open his feet any further, Harry sat with his back to the wall and used his meagre tools to their best advantage.

The pillowcase he'd used to hold the doxies was quickly cut into lengths using the broken glass shard and Harry wrapped his feet as best he could. Packing everything away once more, he climbed the grid with the mat and placed it on the glass. It wasn't very wide, but it would have to do. Hoisting his weight up on to his hands that were resting on the narrow strip of glass-free cement atop the wall, he carefully swung one leg over.

Now came the tricky bit!

He had to put all his weight on one hand while he carefully positioned the other on the far edge of the wall. Taking a deep breath, he went for it, but as soon as he lifted his hand, he lost his balance and toppled over the wall. He landed on the tarmac of the road some twelve feet below him, but he had also succeeded in cutting open his left leg.

Blood was pouring out of a cut on the inside of his left thigh, but Harry had to ignore it and press on as quickly as he could. Fortunately there were no cars in sight and he hobbled across the road and climbed the low wall sliding back down the bank into the water.

For a few minutes he just lay there, the cold water making him shiver despite the sun being high in the sky. _Well at least my wounds have been washed!_ he thought, but then…….

_The omnioculars!_

Panic rose once more until he checked and found that they were quite undamaged. _Must have an Unbreakable charm on them_, Harry realised, but also thought, _I've got to get them to the Order as quickly as I can._

The campsite was bustling with activity, as it was the beginning of the school holidays. Every caravan seemed to have people sitting outside enjoying a pleasant lunch in the open air. Realising he was attracting more than a few stares from holidaymakers, Harry moved as quickly as he could to the edge of the site and walked behind the last row of caravans.

From here he could hear happy voices all around him and wished that he were simply here on holiday with his mum and dad, without a care in the world; instead he was on the run and terrified that he'd be caught at any minute.

His exhaustion was becoming extreme by now and he knew that he must rest but _where?_

Selecting the only caravan that looked unoccupied, Harry crawled beneath it to keep out of sight. He'd stolen a couple of bath sheets from washing lines and used them now as makeshift bedding and curled up to sleep.

Harry had only closed his eyes when images began to form.

_He was standing in the library of Malfoy Manor; kneeling at his feet were Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, MacNair, Rookwood, Crabbe Snr and…. Wormtail._

_When Harry spoke he was no longer surprised that it was the high cruel voice of Lord Voldemort. "Report, Lucius." _

"_My Lord, we have searched the entire estate, Potter is nowhere to be found. I'm s…s…sorry, my Lord!"_

"_Sorry will not do, Lucius. I do not accept sorry! Timing of our endeavour is critical and without Potter's presence among us, it is bound to fail. I do not accept failure, do you hear me, Lucius? I do not accept failure! _Crucio!_"_

_The word had been spoken softly, gently, almost caressingly, but the scream of Lucius Malfoy was anything but soft and gentle. The screams born of an unbearable agony were ripped from his throat and Harry could see flecks of blood shoot out of Malfoy's mouth. When the curse was lifted, Malfoy croaked," You are most generous, my Lord. I will recover Potter, I will guarantee that he will be at the Circle on time. You can rely on me."_

"_Be certain that I can, Lucius; dear Narcissa would look so pale in widow's weeds, don't you think?"_

_Harry had been surprised that the connection had not been severed by the Cruciatus curse and continued to view the scene through those pitiless red eyes._

"_For my plan to succeed I need more than just Potter however. Dear Bella, have you yet located the talisman and book?"_

_Bellatrix Lestrange stood, head bowed, and reported. "My Lord, we gained valuable information from Samuel Parminter of Devizes as to the last reported location of both talisman and book. He claimed that Dumbledore had foreseen the usefulness of the items you seek and took great pains to conceal their whereabouts. We gained this much knowledge, but unfortunately the force used to break through Dumbledore's Memory Charms was such that we regret that Parminter will never speak again. He did manage to tell us that the items 'Travelled to the East,' but we have not been able to determine to where." _

"_To the East you say, Bella? He said nothing more than that?"_

"_He kept pointing to his fireplace, my Lord, but we assumed he was hoping to use the Floo Network to escape our questioning, but that is all."_

At that moment a family arrived to take up occupancy of the caravan beneath which Harry was hiding and the noise woke him from his slumbers. Forgetting where he was for a moment, Harry tried to sit up and hit his head on the caravan's floor. Cursing loudly, Harry lay back down but not before he had been heard.

"'ere, Dad! There's a kid hiding underneath our 'van!"

"_What the devil?)_" bellowed the father in a voice that was strongly reminiscent of Uncle Vernon. "Get out here this instant, you dirty, thieving little….." But Harry didn't hang around to hear anything else.

Scrambling on all fours, Harry ran for it. He couldn't let himself be taken to the Muggle Police, not that he'd get in much bother for nicking a couple of towels, but because for all he knew, the Ministry of Magic could have alerted them just as they had when Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. He had to keep moving, had to stay free at all costs.

Fortunately the pursuit didn't last long, but Harry's feet were still causing him a lot of pain.

_Shoes, got to get myself some shoes but how?_ thought Harry.

The happy sounds of laughter were soon heard from what was obviously an outdoor swimming pool.

Realising he still had one of the bath sheets in his hands, Harry went into a toilet and shower block nearby; stripping off his torn and tattered jeans and sweatshirt, Harry tied the bath sheet around his waist. Carefully rolling up his tattered clothing, Harry stepped out towards the pool. Now he looked just like dozens of other teenagers walking to and from the pool. Nobody paid the slightest attention as he sat down on a bench and took his time surveying the scene.

It was only a few minutes later that a group of lads almost the same height as Harry came bustling over, pushing and shoving each other in fun. They dumped their towels and shoes on Harry's bench and dived in.

Unrolling his jeans and sweatshirt, Harry draped them casually over the nearest pair of trainers and continued to watch the scene. When he felt certain that he was unobserved, he stood up and picked up his clothes along with the trainers. Strolling as casually as he could, he left the enclosure, his heart beating fast against his ribs, and headed back to the toilet and shower block.

He hated having to steal like this and he was determined that, although it was necessary, he would make every effort to make amends – that is if he survived long enough.

He redressed his feet with the remaining strips of pillowcase and put on the trainers. They would normally have been one size too large for him, but his poor abused feet were so swollen from the nettles, cuts and unaccustomed barefoot walking that they fitted just fine.

_OK, _thought Harry, _now for some food. There must be somewhere where I can get something to eat._ Walking on, he saw a site map that had an area marked "Food Court". _Maybe, just maybe I'll get lucky!_

The food court was designed to look like an Olde English Village; the buildings were all black and white mock-Tudor in style, but contained shops such as Pizza-2-Go and Fish'n'Chicks and Buckets o'Chips.

Harry watched as a boy aged about 12 walked in to the fish and chip shop and said to the spotty teenager serving behind the counter, "I've come to pick up the order for 32 Elm Field. Name's Adamson and my Dad's already paid."

The spotty teenager checked on a list and said, "Sorry, kid it'll be another ten minutes. You'll have to come back."

"OK," the kid said and off he went.

Harry waited about 5 minutes and strolled casually in to the same shop, but the assistant had changed. It was now a middle-aged woman.

"I've come to pick up the order for 32 Elm Field. Name's Adamson and my Dad's already paid," said Harry.

"Right you are, love. That's one cod and chips, one plaice and chips, one extra portion of chips, two cheeseburgers, and a bottle of Diet Coke."

The food and drink were packed in a carrier and Harry walked out, not believing his luck. He felt sorry for the Adamsons going hungry, but his need was much greater than theirs.


	4. Determination

Chapter 4 : Determination  
  
Harry sat at a picnic table outside an unoccupied caravan, full from his unanticipated feast. Thinking back over the last couple of days Harry realised how lucky he had been to get this far; he now had some decent shoes on his feet and his stomach was full and – miracle of miracles – he'd seen no evidence of his pursuers!  
  
Knowing that Malfoy and the Death Eaters would be fairly close behind him Harry realised that he couldn't go on much further on foot. He needed some form of transport and he needed it fast. He also needed to determine his destination!  
  
Where to?  
  
Harry carefully weighed up his options.  
  
Back to Privet Drive? No point. The Dursleys were dead and the house would probably still be crawling with Muggle Police Officers. Might as well just hand himself to the authorities.  
  
To Arabella Figgs?  
Too close to Privet Drive. Somebody who knew him or the Dursleys might spot him.  
  
Hogwarts?  
Too far! Would be safe there, Harry hoped, but would be really pushing his luck to try and get that far whilst being pursued by the Death Eaters.  
  
And then it came to him... where next to Hogwarts was one of the safest places in the wizarding world? Grimmauld Place. Of course! Much nearer than Hogwarts and with the protection on the place Harry would surely be protected from pursuit and from the Muggle Police and he would be able to get the omnioculars and the information they contained to the Order of the Phoenix!  
  
With a destination now firmly in mind the next item on the agenda was How?  
  
If only I knew how to apparate it would take only seconds. A portkey.... Floo.... Broomstick ....!!!  
  
Harry sighed with frustration. There were many different ways to magically transport onself from one side of the country to the other but not one of them could Harry use so he was going to have to stick with Muggle methods then.  
  
Bus?  
Too far and no money for fare.  
  
Train?  
Better but still need fare money.  
  
Car?  
He couldn't drive and he'd done enough stealing and didn't want to do more if he could avoid it, not only that but he was already wanted by the Police and didn't want to risk drawing any more attention to himself.  
  
Walking between rows of caravans Harry approached the back of the food court once more and then the answer came to him.  
  
Parked at the back of the "Fish'n'Chicks and Buckets o'Chips" restaurant was a lorry bringing fresh fish from Billingsgate Fish Market in London!  
  
He could try and hitch a ride with the lorry driver!  
  
Excitement coursing through him Harry rapidly strode towards the back door of the restaurant hoping that the driver might still be inside but when he looked inside his insides turned to ice!  
  
Sitting on the counter was a portable TV with the lunchtime news on and slap bang in the middle of the screen was his own face!  
  
Panicking Harry turned tail and ran.  
  
He ran up the road to the entrance to the site and kept on running right out on to the main road.  
  
It only took about five minutes for Harry to realise that he couldn't keep on going like this and seeing a sign saying Public Footpath to Summerton Bassett he turned into a hedge-lined avenue running at right-angles to the main road. Slowing his pace to a fast walk Harry re-thought his options.  
  
A lift in a lorry up to London would have been perfect but now would be too risky. If his face was on the TV news then the chance was that his description would also be on the radio so a lift by a lorry driver could be a lift straight into captivity.  
  
Well until he could think of a better choice it would have to be Shanks's Pony.  
  
Harry knew the winding country footpaths would keep him well away from busy muggle-populated areas but the only problem was that the more remote the path was from "civilization" then the Death Eaters would be free to use brooms to try and search for him without running the risk of being spotted. So another compromise then.  
  
Stick to the B class roads through the scattered hamlets and hope that the risk of cars and farm vehicles passing him would also keep the Death Eaters away. Surely motorists spotting a lone kid on the road would pay very little attention to him and wasn't he being sought in Surrey and not in Wiltshire?  
  
With these worries playing on his mind Harry arrived in the village of Summerton Bassett. Typical of many hamlets in that part of Wiltshire, Summerton Bassett was strung out along one main street with a church, a pub and a petrol station that had a mini-supermarket and post-office attached. Having drunk a most of the coke along with his fish and chips Harry needed to use the loo and fortunately the petrol station had one that was not only open but immaculately clean.  
  
Harry had just vacated a cubicle when a young man in his early twenties wearing motorcycle leathers came in and Harry heard the unmistakable tones of a mobile phone ringing. With an annoyed shrug to Harry the motorcyclist dumped the rucksack he was carrying on the floor and rummaged inside it pulling out nearly the entire contents until he found the phone. Answering he shouted to his caller that the signal was breaking up and to hang on.  
  
"Do me a favour mate? Keep an eye on me stuff for us will ya?"  
  
"Yeah sure" replied Harry walking over to the sink to wash his hands.  
  
In just a couple of minutes the biker was back.  
  
"Bitch! Bloody bitch! Couldn't even tell me to my face!" Despite the tough looking exterior Harry could see tears welling up in the man's eyes.  
  
Harry didn't know what had happened but it was obvious that the call had been devastating to receive.  
  
"You OK?" Harry enquired with not a little trepidation. The man was only a few years older than Harry it was true but he seemed to have muscles on top of muscles and Harry had no doubt he could flatten him if he chose.  
  
"OK? No I'm bloody well not OK! I've just got off a six-week stint on a rig in the north sea and do you know what the first thing I did was when I hit shore? I went and spent two months wages on a bloody engagement ring that'll never be worn that's what I did! I've been riding all night to get here and with only another fifty miles to go she rings me up and says not to bother coming round tonight because she's going out to dinner with Alexander!"  
  
The rider spat the name out as if it were some foul swear word.  
  
"I knew he was coming on to her but she kept on swearing that he was only coming round to her flat to talk about work 'Its a major project and we just don't have time in the office to get to grips with all the problems' Yeah right! It was problems he wanted to get a grip of was it! I know what he wanted to get his hands on and it weren't no problems!"  
  
At that his anger seemed to be drowned in the welling tears and in his embarrassment he turned to Harry.  
  
"Sorry kid, shouldn't be blubbering all over you like a bloody girl!"  
  
"No its fine, really. Don't worry about it!" Harry was strongly reminded of Hagrid whose rough exterior belied a very soft and emotional centre.  
  
Bending down to re-pack his bag the biker picked up a baseball cap bearing an oil-company logo on the front of it.  
  
"Brought that back for her this trip I did. Well that was another waste of time weren't it! Tell you what why don't you have it. Can't bring you any more bad luck than it has me."  
  
Bad luck! Thought Harry. He'd had enough of that to last a lifetime but he thanked his new found friend and stuck it on his head. "Cheers. At least it'll keep the sun out of my eyes while I'm walking. Anyway better be getting a move on." Harry went out the door and was walking across the forecourt with his new "disguise" and thought that perhaps his luck would hold after all when he heard footsteps behind him.  
  
"Here hold up kid! You said you were walking? Where you going? D'ya need a lift?"  
  
Not believing his luck Harry quickly said that he was making his way to London and the biker's face fell.  
  
"Sorry but I'm going in the opposite direction. I'm heading for Southampton. You're welcome to join me if you like. Tell you what, my mate Sam's taking his forty-footer up to Tilbury for a re-fit I'll ask him to give you a berth if you like."  
  
Harry's face broke into the first real smile he had worn for days.  
  
"That'd be brilliant! Cheers!"  
  
"Well if we're travelling together I'd better introduce myself proper like. Name's Michael Thomas but most of my mates just call me Tank"  
  
Harry looked puzzled and Bob quickly added "Yeah I know but on the rigs everyone has a nickname and I got mine because of that damned kids TV programme!"  
  
Harry continued to look puzzled. The Dursleys had allowed Dudley to watch all the TV he wanted but anytime Harry tried to sit down and watch something he was curtly told "Don't sit their wasting your time boy, go and do...." And then they would reel off a list of chores for him to do instead.  
  
"Don't tell me you've never heard of Thomas the TANK engine?"  
  
Tank roared with laughter. "Well so much for the theory that anyone under 25 spends all their time watching TV eh? Anyway that's the nickname I was landed with."  
  
"Well I don't mind calling you that" said Harry  
  
"Good! What's your name? Or have you got a nickname too?"  
  
No, thought Harry, don't go using a classmate's name again. He remembered using Neville Longbottom as an alias back in third year. Stick to a nickname it'd be safer. But he'd only ever been called Harry by his friends. The Dursleys called him all kinds of names none of which he cared to remember! But then he remembered back to first year when the Gryffindor Quidditch Team were upset at him for losing 50 points in one go.  
  
"You can call me Seeker!" said Harry quite pleased at coming up with what he considered not only an appropriate but "cool" sounding nickname.  
  
"OK Seeker! Let's get going then."  
  
Tank pulled a spare cycle helmet out of the top box on the back of the bike, showed Harry how to adjust the chinstrap and once it was on his head and his new baseball cap safely stowed in his "rucksack" they were off. 


	5. Destination – unknown!

Chapter 5 : Destination – unknown!  
  
This was wonderful! This was brilliant! Harry felt that riding the motorbike was the next best thing to flying his Firebolt! The sensation of speeding through the lanes and the familiar feel of wind rushing over his bare face felt marvellous! Harry remembered back to Sirius and Remus reminiscing about Sirius old motorbike and now Harry fully understood Sirius' love of the machine. I must get one of these! thought Harry and wondered if he would need to ask someone's permission to ride one, he knew that in the muggle world you had to be 17 to have a car licence but how about a motorbike licence? Sirius was no longer around to give consent as his legal guardian so who would be his guardian now?  
  
The Dursleys? Harry hoped not. They had to act in that capacity while Harry had been in primary school but surely not now! Dumbledore perhaps? After everything that had happened at the end of last year Harry wondered if he would ever again be able to trust the aged Headmaster as he had once done. He knew Dumbledore meant well which made it all that much harder when he made mistakes – such as failing to tell Harry the contents of the prophecy and his suspicions that Voldemort would try to make Harry retrieve the record from the Ministry of Magic.  
  
Sitting on the back of Tank's bike feeling the soothing vibrations of the powerful bike Harry felt safe and relaxed for the first time in days. The blur of scenery sweeping by him helped him to focus out his surroundings almost like a form of meditation. He closed his eyes and ......  
  
Harry was sitting with his legs crossed in an almost throne-like wing backed leather chair. His left hand was stroking the head of a huge snake which moved its head in appreciation of the caress. Harry knew if it had been a cat it would have been purring loudly. His right hand held a large brandy glass.  
  
Opposite Harry and sitting in an almost identical chair sat the unmistakable figure of Lucius Malfoy. His poise was elegant and languid and he too caressed a glass containing – no doubt – an exceptionally fine old brandy.  
  
"Ah Lucius how we take for granted the simple pleasures of life! The ability to feel (he stroked the snakes head in emphasis) to smell (he rolled the brandy around the bowl of the glass noting with deep satisfaction the way it clung to the interior as he held it beneath his slit-like nostrils) and even to breathe! Having been deprived of those simple pleasures for so many years by Potter it is my one over-riding ambition to take away from him all the simple pleasures in which he delights! One by one they shall be stripped from him! Piece by piece he shall feel his very essence ripped from him until all that remains is a shell! Burnt out and useless he shall be pitied by all and revered by none! I shall leave him alive Lucius, oh yes I no longer wish him dead for I wish him to experience the despair, loneliness and isolation with which I spent so many years."  
  
At these words Harry noted a look of fear enter Lucius Malfoy's eyes!  
  
"My Lord I assure you we did try to find you! I sent men to scour the world for news but to no avail! But your loyal Death Eaters were few in number and we did what we could, I assure you my Lord.....!"  
  
"Yes, yes Lucius, you have assured me time and again that you are loyal to me and you are well aware that I reward my Loyal Death Eaters. But I did not release you from the bumbling clutches of the Ministry simply as a reward for services rendered! Soon Lucius you will be truly able to demonstrate your loyalty to me."  
  
"Tell me what I must do, Master. My only desire is to meet your every need."  
  
At this point Harry thought to himself "You are nothing but a puppet Malfoy, you shall dance for me and when you have served your purpose I shall cut your strings – then you will know what it feels like to be powerless"  
  
Harry was puzzled to note that Malfoy did not react to these words but realised suddenly that in fact Voldemort had not spoken them out loud at all!  
  
Harry was brought back to reality by Tank suddenly sounding the bike's horn.  
  
"Don't know about you Seeker but I need a break! How about we stop and get a bite to eat? There's a place about a mile or so ahead, 'kay?"  
  
"Yeah I could do with stretching my legs Tank but I haven't got any money for food but take as long as you need – I'm OK!"  
  
"Don't be daft! I earn good money on the rigs and I reckon you ain't a big eater eh Seeker. You could do with feeding up a bit if you ask me so don't go worrying about the price of a couple of burgers OK?"  
  
Harry couldn't help but grin back at Tank. Burgerland! Other kids at school used to talk about going to Burgerland as a treat and the Dursleys often used to call in when they did their weekly shopping but all Harry ever got was a small portion of fries. He'd always wanted to try a Megaburga and his mouth watered at the idea of a chocolate milk shake. His only worry was whether the TV or radio would be on with his details for all to see but when he thought back to his rare trips in the past he only remembered hearing piped music – not live TV or radio. Feeling he could push his luck just this once Harry realised just how hungry he was and how long ago it had been since he had eaten at the holiday camp.  
  
They had been riding along a dual-carriage way for about 5 minutes when they saw the sign for a new-looking retail park which had the usual cluster of fast food outlets. They parked up and walked in to the sparkling clean restaurant. He'd jammed his new peaked hat on as soon as he'd removed his helmet and stowed it away and now kept it low over his eyes trying to keep his scar well hidden.  
  
Once inside it took only moments to choose their food and pay for it. Harry led the way to a table selecting seats away from the serving counter and main door in an effort to be as invisible as possible.  
  
"One thing about these sort of places you know they're going have clean kitchens and loos. Living in close quarters on the rigs you have to keep everything spotless." Said Tank sliding into his seat.  
  
"Oh I know all about having to keep everything spotless. My Aunt P...." Realising suddenly what he had been about to say Harry faked a coughing fit.  
  
"You OK mate?"  
  
"Yeah, fine thanks! I was gonna say my Aunt Pamela keeps her house so spotless I reckon you could eat your dinner off her kitchen floor! But I reckon it's just not healthy, you know? No dirt anywhere – as my mate Don'd say it ain't natural."  
  
"Whose Don? One of your mates from school? You still at school right?"  
  
"Yeah I'm still at school and Don sleeps in the same dormitory as me."  
  
"What? Don't tell me you go to one of those posh boarding schools? If you don't mind me saying so kid your clothes don't fit the image!"  
  
"Well I don't know about posh but it is a boarding school. One of the other lads in my dormitory has a milkman for a dad and Don's dad works for the government but I don't think he earns very much and has seven kids to keep as well. Don's always moaning about having everything handed on to him from his brothers and not getting anything new."  
  
"How come you're there then?"  
  
"Well its not an ordinary school. It's a school for kids with special needs."  
  
"What behavioural problems and the like?"  
  
"Yeah, something like that!" Harry blushed and realised that Tank would probably think Harry was a right little hooligan. Well he was used to the neighbours in Little Whinging thinking that.  
  
"I knew it! You're a lot like me then! I grew up with four younger brothers and they were always being picked on at school for being swots. I wasn't as brainy as them but I had the brawn as they had the brains so I always ended up sorting out the bullies. Well one day I was seen giving a little toe-rag a seeing too for trashing my youngest brothers' homework and that was it! Labelled a troublemaker I was packed off to a school called St. Brutus's. Mind you I ended up getting the best out of that deal 'cos there we got all kinds of chances the other kids didn't! I had always enjoyed tinkering with engines and cars and stuff, well at St.Brutus's I got proper training in mechanics and mechanical engineering. They gave me the chance to show what I was really capable of. That's how come I qualified for the job on the rig! Good old St.Brutus's!  
  
S'funny you know I haven't thought of that place for ages and only last night I saw my old headmaster on the telly talking about some kid that's supposed to have gone there but he knows nothing about. This kid's supposed to have attacked his family!"  
  
At those words Harry nearly choked on his shake! Tank had obviously heard the news report of the attack on the Dursleys but he hadn't connected the kid from the report to him. Thank goodness! As much as he liked being with Tank and the ride was proving to be very useful and also extremely enjoyable Harry decided that it was probably high time for a parting of the ways. It was a pity but he just couldn't risk being recognised. The last thing he needed was to end up in the custody of the Muggle police.  
  
Thankful that he still had on the baseball cap given to him by Tank, Harry decided to slip out the back door and be on his way. Using the excuse that he needed to use the Loo, Harry got up and made his way to the back of the restaurant his makeshift rucksack slung over his should but when he saw Tank turn and look towards him Harry pushed open the door to the restrooms and walked in.  
  
Harry realised it must have looked a bit odd taking his bag with him but he needed to split from his travelling companion if only to protect him. As Tank had said, the loos were immaculate and Harry entered a cubicle.  
  
If only I didn't have the damned scar on my forehead and had brown eyes and hair then I could just disappear and no-one would recognise me. Thought Harry. Wishing he were a metamorphmagus like Tonks sat Harry waited a good few minutes before checking to see if he could sneak out unobserved.  
  
Harry was about to reach for the handle when the door was suddenly pushed open. His heart in his mouth, Harry felt that his luck had finally run out when a burly 6'3" tall policeman pushed his way in to the rest room. Convinced that he was about to be arrested Harry stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall but the policeman paid him no heed and just rapidly made his way into a cubicle.  
  
Not wasting any more time Harry snatched the door open. He almost ran from the restaurant but stopped in his tracks when he heard Tank's voice.  
  
"Hey Seeker! I'm over here! What'd you do loose your bearings?"  
  
Without looking him in the face Harry took the helmet from Tank and jammed it on his head tucking the peaked hat in the waistband of his jeans.  
  
"You OK Seeker?" queried Tank but he looked at Harry then at the police car. It was obvious to Tank that Harry was trying to leave as quickly as possible so he didn't push matters. Harry remained silent as he climbed on to the bike behind Tank and they roared off.  
  
They had only been riding for about 20 minutes when Tank indicated and then pulled onto a small track leading into some woods. When he had turned off the engine Tank got off the bike and confronted Harry.  
  
"Okay mate! Spill the beans! You're hiding from the law that's obvious but I want to know why and I want to know now!"  
  
God if there ever was a time when Harry wished he could Apparate then this was it!  
  
If he told Tank the truth would he turn him in to the Police?  
  
Being associated with Harry had brought a lot of people into danger; was Harry prepared to put Tank at risk like that for just giving him a lift? No, thought Harry, I won't ruin any more lives!  
  
Getting off the bike Harry removed his helmet and automatically ran his hand up through his hair. His nervous perspiration made his hair stand up on end leaving his lightning-shaped scar all too visible.  
  
"Something happened to my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin and the police think I'm responsible but I swear Tank that I didn't do it! I was miles away but someone who looked like me ...... murdered them and made it look like I did it! There you know now. " Harry felt exhausted. All the stress of the last few days crashed down on top of him. "If you want to call the police then you had better do it! I won't run I promise!" Harry sank down onto the grassy verge and put his head in his hands.  
  
It was over! Harry was convinced that Tank would use his mobile to call the police. He would be taken into custody and then what? No doubt Voldemort and his Death Eaters would be able to get him but at least another innocent muggle would be safe. Harry was determined that no other lives would be ruined because of him.  
  
But Tank did not phone the police.  
  
Harry reluctantly looked up and saw his new-found friend staring him in the eyes.  
  
"Seeker, can you swear to me that you really haven't done anything wrong?"  
  
Harry thought back to the muggle camp site. "I swear I haven't hurt anyone – well not deliberately anyway! I only nicked these trainers 'cos I didn't have any and I knew I wouldn't get far barefoot!"  
  
Tank nodded and thinking he might have an ally Harry continued: "Tank I was telling the truth when I said that I need to get to London. I'm trying to get in touch with my Headmaster and if I were really guilty of murder do you think I'd try and do that?"  
  
"No Seeker, I guess you wouldn't! Like I said earlier, my old Headmaster helped me to turn my life around perhaps yours will be able to do the same for you eh? Look, I know I might be nuts for this but I'm gonna trust you. I'll get you to my mate Sam's boat and ask him to drop you off at Tilbury, its still a few miles from central London but you should be OK. Sam's not too fond of the police either they once arrested him because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, if you know what I mean! Took forever to clear his name and he's never trusted them since."  
  
Tank pulled out his mobile and rang his friend. "Sam I'm bringing a mate with me, can you let the entrance gate know to expect the two of us in about 25 minutes. Yeah I'm still riding my old Honda 500-4. As long as the old girl keeps going I'll not part with her. Okay. See ya." Tank ended the brief call and turned to Harry. The boatyard's pretty hot on security these days. If they don't know you they don't let you in."  
  
Harry breathed an enormous sigh of relief and the two of them put their helmets back on and rode off once more. 


	6. Old Friends

Usual disclaimer : Harry and Co belong to JKR (Long may she reign!) and not to me. 

Author's note: Sorry it's been so long since I have updated. RL has been hectic. Chapters 7 – 20 now written so should update more often. Following chapters will also be considerably longer. Thanks for all reviews received to date, they are all much appreciated.

Chapter 6 : Old Friends 

Just as Tank had promised after 25 minutes they were pulling off the main road into a boatyard. Tank briefly removed his helmet and identified himself and a guest to the guard on duty who had obviously been warned of their imminent arrival. They slow made their way through the various buildings and down to the finger pontoon docks at the water's edge. Tank parked his beloved Honda and the two helmets were stowed in the top box on the back of the bike. The two then made their way out to one of the pontoons and Harry finally got a glimpse of Sam.

Harry was strongly reminded of Kingsley Shacklebolt the auror and member of the Order of the Phoenix that he'd met this time last year. The man gave off an unmistakable aura of power and strength and made Harry think twice about staying in his company for any length of time but as soon as he saw Tank his face split into an enormous grin and he roared with laughter.

"Man it's good to see you! Why you keep away from me for so long, eh? Just because you broke up with my kid sister is no good reason to keep friends apart eh? What did you think I'd do? Rip your head off or something?"

Harry saw Tank's face break into a sheepish grin. "Well you can't blame a bloke for being cautious can you! Anyway, she's obviously better off without me."

"Girl's a damn fool if you ask me!" replied Sam "but why'd you go and take off like that? You'd done nothing wrong! The whole damned family missed you man! It's sure good to be together again! Come aboard and let's open a couple of cans and you can introduce me to your new friend here!"

They went down into the cabin and Sam got three cans of lager from the fridge and they settled down. Although it was tiny and Sam and Tank were by no means midgets, the two men surprised Harry by moving around with agility and ease. The cabin was small but not cramped and Harry seated himself on a bench built into one of the bulkheads.

Not being used to lager, Harry took his time with his drink. It was not bad, he decided, but he much preferred butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks. Harry sat and sipped slowly and his mind drifted back to his friends and how much he missed them.

But were they missing him?

Did they believe the article in the Daily Prophet and were now convinced that he had murdered the Dursleys? After all the two witnesses against him was Bill Weasley and Arabella Figg with them speaking out against him what chance did Harry have?

At the end of his fifth year Dumbledore had told Harry of the prophecy which foretold that Harry would end up murdered or murderer but could he really kill someone?

What would Molly and Arthur say? Ron's mum and dad and indeed all his family, were the only real family Harry felt he had. Would the Weasley's believe he could take a life? Would Ginny think he was a murderer? All at once the gently smiling face of Ginny Weasley came to mind. Ginny! God he hoped Ginny at least would believe him innocent.

Innocent! Could Harry really claim that he was still innocent? Hadn't he cast the Cruciatus curse on Bellatrix Lestrange last June? By rights he should be in Azkaban right now for casting an unforgiveable on a fellow human being but Bellatrix had cursed Neville Longbottom's so much that they resided in the Locked Ward for Permanent Spell Damage at St.Mungos.

Harry hoped that Bellatrix, being an escapee from Azkaban, would be considered a legitimate target by the authorities and that they would go easy on him if it ever came to light but as he was now being sought in his own right.....?

Peels of laughter from the two friends brought Harry's wandering thoughts back to the present. Tank thrust another can into Harry's hand as he embarked on yet more tales of life on board the north sea rig!

Harry's eyes were getting heavier and heavier until he finally gave up and fell back on the bench sound asleep.

"Report!" 

_The single word sounded like a whip crack in the tense atmosphere. The speaker was standing at the top of a flight of stone steps at the foot of which were gathered about fifty black-cloaked figures, their faces hidden by masks. Harry recognised the exterior of the house from which he had escaped._

"_My Lord!" One of the Death Eaters had stepped forward "We have been able to follow Potter's movements and it seems he has had some assistance with his escape! He managed to escape the grounds to the muggle cam site. We had some difficulty tracking him but we have been able to determine that he was given some assistance by a muggle with a (the Death Eater referred to a piece of parchment taken from inside his robes) motor bicycle!"_

_At Voldemort's look of confusion the Death Eater continued: "It's a muggle method of transport my Lord. It has two wheels and can travel quite fast!"_

"_And?" questioned Voldemort._

"_Well we have managed to track them to a marina at Swanwick, just outside Southampton." Continued the Death Eater._

"_Well what are you standing here for? If you know where he is retrieve him or feel my displeasure!"_

"_Yes my Lord! Immediately my Lord!" Harry heard the familiar pops of disapparition! _

_The figure of the Dark Lord turned his back on his remaining Death Eaters._

"_You can try and evade me Harry but I will always find you and when I do you will pay for all the times you have thwarted my plans! Yes, you will pay most dearly and not just you! I will hunt down all those you care for. Your thoughts have given you away Harry and now I know your weakness! How like your father you are Harry! He too was prepared to sacrifice his life for your mother's. Will you do the same I wonder?"_

"Noooo!" Cried Harry with mounting alarm as he struggled awake.

As Harry was trashing around Tank laid a hand on his arm to try and gently awaken him. All at once Tank was blasted back across the cabin striking his head and falling to the floor.

Alarmed Harry sat up and looked at his new friend lying unconscious. Sam bent over him showing unexpected gentleness for such a large man.

"Tank! Wake up man! What did you do to him?" Sam looked accusingly at Harry who in fright pushed past him to get off the boat and away from the two friends. He was nearly on the deck when he heard Tank's voice shouting.

"_Stop him Sam!_"

Harry's legs felt like jelly as he tried to run for it but Sam was a good deal taller than Harry and his long legs quickly ate up the distance between them. Suddenly he was rugby-tackled to the ground, Sam's weatherworn arms wrapped tightly around his legs.

"Get off me!" Harry shouted but his panic was less than when he had first awoken and this time Sam kept a hold of him.

"Seeker, I'm fine! Don't go running out on me like that!" called Tank.

"Calm down, its okay!" Added Sam and at these re-assuring words Harry stopped struggling in Sam's grip and his panic suddenly turned to near-hysteria.

"Oh God! I'm so sorry I hurt you! Everyone who gets close to me ends up hurt or dead and I just thought.....!"

Harry slumped in relief that Tank really was alright. Sam stood up and pulled Harry to his feet.

"Help, I can't find my glasses! Oh Merlin I hope they didn't fall overboard. I can't see a thing without them."

The panic in Harry's voice and the oath he'd used made Sam screw his eyes up in an unspoken query.

"Got them, they're fine." Came Tank's voice from behind Harry who reached out to take them. "No hold on the screw's just about to fall out on this side" noted Tank. "You still got that set of jewellers tools below deck Sam?"

"Should have. Don't ever throw tools away, never know when you might need 'em. Do you think you'll be able to make your way okay or do you need a hand?" Sam asked Harry.

"I can manage okay, thanks and sorry for .... you know .... earlier!" Harry stammered.

"It's a good job I'm not that clumsy when I'm on the rig or I'd be doing myself a damage." Replied Tank. On seeing Harry's puzzled expression Tank explained that just as Harry had awoken from his nightmare he, Tank, had tripped over his own feet and fallen backwards.

Harry didn't believe a word of it but didn't dispute it. He had felt the same surge of power as he'd felt last summer when Uncle Vernon had grabbed him round the throat through the open window.

What was going on? If he was doing accidental magic would it be detected by the Ministry and lead the Aurors to him?

Just as the three had gone below deck the first few tell-tale spots of rain appeared on the cabin windows "They are called portholes on board ship not windows," said Tank as he secured the outer hatch and closed the portholes. "The forecast said there would be a storm today but that it should be blown out before midnight."

Harry resumed his seat on the bench while Sam fixed his glasses, cleaning them before handing them back.

"It makes all the difference in the world when you have the right tools for the job." Harry nodded his agreement.

He had a job to do but the tool he needed, his wand, was still as far as he knew, back in Malfoy Manor!


	7. New Friends

Said I would be updating more often!!!

**Chapter 7 : New Friends**

Looking back just a short while later Harry wondered what it was about Tank and Sam that made him feel so safe and so willing to talk to them? Harry had been very careful not to let slip anything that would give him away as being magical or anything about the wizarding world.

After fixing his glasses Sam and Tank set about preparing a meal which they all enjoyed in the cosy galley while the storm raged outside. The boat bobbed up and down only slightly at its mooring and the movement seemed to reflect Harry's mood. The timber craft seemed to be eager to be out on the sea in motion instead of tied up at safe anchor and Harry felt the same way but he reckoned his safest way to get to Grimmauld Place was on this boat with Sam. So he stayed put and talked to the two old friends.

Tank and Sam now believed that he went to a charity-run boarding school for gifted children and that his least favourite teacher taught chemistry and not potions. When it came to mentioning some of his other lessons though Harry had a great deal of difficulty trying to think of Muggle equivalents of Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Fortunately he could talk about History with no problem – aside from mentioning that his history teacher was a ghost or mentioning his obsession with Goblin Rebellions.

When Harry came to mention that he had taken lessons on Astronomy both Tank and Sam's faces lit up. Working on the rigs, explained Tank, the skies are not polluted by lights from towns and cities and you can see a great deal of detail in the heavens. Quite a lot of the crew of his rig had expensive telescopes and they did a lot of stargazing in their free time.

"Look up now Seeker." Said Tank when they Harry had calmed down from his upset "And tell me what's the brightest thing in the sky."

Harry looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Mars! Mars is bright tonight!" Tank exclaimed.

Harry's jaw nearly hit the deck!

"What do you know about Mars being bright?" queried Harry worriedly.

"Well all the planets in the solar system have a slight wobble in their orbits so occasionally – such as now – the planets move closer than they normally are so their light shines brighter than usual. Simple. Its like shining a torch at the end of a football pitch at midnight then moving it closer to say, the half-way line."

Harry positively laughed out loud and replied "Dean would love that analogy but I don't reckon Firenze would."

"Dean? Is he one of your classmates then? Asked Sam who had just come up on deck with some mugs of hot chocolate. It was now about 11.30pm and Harry knew that he and Sam had to be up at 5am to catch the morning tide.

"Yes, I've shared a dormitory with Dean for the last five years but I don't know a lot about him. He's got the same surname as you, Thomas, but I think his family came from the West Indies. I know his Dad is a milkman and he's a great fan of West Ham United. He's got a poster on the wall by his bed of the current team but Seamus always takes the mickey out of him for it but then he doesn't understand football."

"Doesn't understand football!" exclaimed Tank and Sam in unison. They looked at each other and roared with laughter.

Tank continued "With a name like Seamus the lad's gotta be Irish so what sport is he into then? Rugby I suppose!"

"Er! No. I don't think he's into that kind of sport much." Harry lied, trying to get the conversation and his mind off in a safer direction. He still missed Quidditch so much it was like a dull toothache in the back of his mind. Most of the time he could ignore it but just occasionally he reacted to something and the pain flared up.

"Oh, so Seamus prefers "indoor" sports does he?" Sam's innuendo was not lost on Harry.

Sam and Tank took Harry's comment to mean that Seamus was into a different kind of sport. The female, feminine, girly kind of sport that occupied the minds of a lot of 16 year old lads!

"Well what kind of "sport" do you prefer then Seeker me lad? The kind with the lads or with the lasses? Eh?"

In a vain attempt to keep the conversation away from himself Harry told them "Well, I think my best mate Ron's little sister, Ginny, is interested in Dean. On the train home at the end of last term she told us she had just given her old boyfriend, Michael, the elbow and she had now decided to go out with Dean."

"How old's this Ginny then?" asked Sam. Behind Harry's back Sam and Tank exchanged looks and raised their eyebrows.

"She's in the year below us." Replied Harry but his words were lost in his mug of chocolate.

"Sorry mate.... Didn't quite catch that."

"Somehow Sam I get a feeling that Seeker here wouldn't mind being in Dean's shoes and to have young Ginny seeking him out! What do you reckon? Read the signs right have I?"

Harry blushed to the tips of his ears, just like Ron. The two men realised that Harry's feelings on the subject of Ginny were not something to laugh at however. Tank gestured to Sam in a way that old friends understand without words. Sam stood up, collected the three mugs and went below decks leaving Tank and Harry alone under the velvety blackness of the midnight sky.

"She doesn't know you like her, does she?" Tank stated bluntly.

Harry just continued staring at the deck and shook his head. When, after a long minute's silence, he raised his eyes Tank was surprised to see yet more tears on his lashes.

"I hope to God she thinks I don't like her as anything other than Ron's little sister" and Harry silently added in his mind "and I hope that no one else thinks that either or her life wouldn't be worth a damn!" The end of his sentence went unspoken

"Why?" That simple word asked so many questions.

"Because, I'm not someone she should love. She should be with someone whose life is less.... complicated .... less dangerous!" Replied Harry.

"Complicated? Dangerous? For goodness sake Seeker, you're only, what 16? What can there possibly be in your life that can be complicated or dangerous?"

"You don't understand. You can't possibly understand. From the day I was born I was .... destined I suppose you could say ... to do something that only I can do. I don't have a choice. The problem is that now it's going to be almost impossible for me to do. Things have changed... I've changed ....... I've _done_ things I regret and wish to God I hadn't done. All last year people believed the worst of me and then when the truth came out most people were too scared to act. The Minister didn't change anything. Oh sure he sent out leaflets warning of possible dangers but what good's that if an attack happens! You can't hide behind a leaflet and hope it will keep you alive! He needed to act! Be decisive! But no.... he sends out leaflets!" Harry ended sarcastically.

Harry's mouth was running away with him and Tank sat and looked at him with a deep frown on his face. The fact was that, as a Muggle, Tank wouldn't have a clue what Harry was talking about, would probably think Harry was living in a fantasy world.

"What do you mean attack? What kind of attack? You almost make it sound as though there's a war going on. Calm down. There hasn't been any kind of war in England since 1945. You're safe. Don't worry."

Harry shook his head and looked Tank in the eye. "You can't possibly understand. I'm sorry I even mentioned it. Just forget it, okay?"

"Forget it! How can I possibly forget it when I can see that whatever it is it's tearing you up? Look mate, I know we only met a short while ago but ... Oh I don't know, I can't really explain it, but I _believe_ you. I may not understand what you are going through but there's something about you...." Tank's voice trailed off.

"Destiny."

The single word was spoken by Sam. He was standing with the harbour light behind him and his face was in shadow. Harry screwed his eyes up as he looked from one man to the other.

"My old gran she used to say to me that you can't fight your destiny! You can fight everyone else, even yourself, but you can't fight destiny!"

Sam continued "A great believer she was in divination, never went anywhere without her Tarot cards and she always read the leaves! I used to be absolutely terrified of her when I was a kid 'cos she used to look at me and say you got a great battle to fight.... not for a long time yet but fight you will! My Dad died during the war in Korea and everytime that Gran mentioned fighting my Mum would get so mad!

I remember one time Gran ended up hitting Mum with her handbag saying that she knew it, she'd _seen_ it and knew it could not be denied. Strange thing was that my Mum just nodded her head crying fit to bust all the while. The she looks at me with tears pouring from her eyes and runs from the room!"

Right up to the end of here days Gran would say "You promise me now that when the time comes you will do what you have to do. He'll need all the friends he can get and you gotta make sure you're the best friend you can be. Sacrifice and Duty. Hah! To the younger generation that have already given so much, sacrifice and duty have become dirty words. You though, you know don't you that when the call comes you just can't leave it unanswered."

"He?" questioned Harry and Tank together. They both smiled after speaking in unison. Harry continued "Who did your Gran mean by "He"?"

"Mum always made me think Gran was going on about a new Messiah or something and said that Gran was loosing her marbles. Whenever Gran overhead her saying this she used to look me straight in the eye and shake her head emphatically. What we never understood though was her obsessions, apart from the divination that is."

Now it was Tank's turn to ask a question. "What sort of obsessions?"

"Well, Gran always loved to make things, sewing, knitting, baking, painting and drawing. Always though whatever she made had the same animals on them. Well not just animals, signs and initials too."

Harry was getting more and more intrigued as Sam went on.

"Animals.....?" Harry prompted.

"A lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake."

Harry's mouth went dry. He tried to speak and couldn't. In his stead Tank posed Harry's unasked question.

"And what signs and initials?"

"Well the sign used to really freak me out. It was a green skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. The initials were always the same two."

Harry waited with baited breath.

"The letters H and P!"


	8. The Parting of the Waves

Chapter 8 : The Parting of the Waves 

With his eyes closed Harry could almost believe he was flying on his Firebolt! Only thing was he had never flown his Firebolt so low over the tops of the waves that he could feel the sea spray on his face.

When he opened his eyes, the only thing he could see was the sea. Come to think of it, thought Harry, this was only the second time he had ever seen the sea!

Standing right at the front of Sam's boat the Griselda, the bow he'd called it, Harry could see nothing ahead of him but the waves disappearing off to the far horizon. Harry knew that Sam was taking the boat for a refit and that some friends had a yard at Tilbury in Essex, so that was where the work was to be done.

The journey was going to take a good few days, after all they were in no rush and "The old girl won't be pushed!" Sam had explained at dinner the night before.

The journey meant sailing right round the southeast of England from Southampton, round past the Isle of Wight, along the coasts of Hampshire, Sussex and Kent. They would sail past some of the most famous seaside resorts in Britain but Harry had never visited any of them.

The Dursleys had gone on holiday to the seaside when Harry had been small but he had never been allowed to go with them and the only other time he had seen the sea was when Uncle Vernon had gone mad trying to escape from Harry's Hogwarts invitation letters!

Remembering back to the hut-on-the-rock five years ago Harry realised that marked the end of his old life and the beginning of his new one and now....

Would he ever be able to return to the magical world or would he spend the rest of his days as an outcast?

It wasn't the first time that Harry had been alone in the world but at the beginning of his third year he spent only a short time away from the Magical World and the Ministry of Magic had conveniently ignored his "crime" of blowing up Aunt Marge. Somehow Harry did not think he would get off so easily this time, after all he was accused of multiple counts of murder not just some uncontrolled but relatively harmless magic!

The dreadful memories of just one year ago also came to Harry's mind.

All too well Harry recalled sitting in the chained chair in front of the full Wizengamot and having the list of his crimes read out. If it had not been for the clever use of logic by Albus Dumbledore, Harry would not only have been expelled from Hogwarts but most likely would have ended up in Azkaban the terrifying wizard prison.

Dumbledore.

What would he be doing now, thought Harry?

Would he use the Order of the Phoenix to come to his aid and help prove his innocence?

Or round up members of the Order to find Harry and "bring him in?"

Bill Weasley was a member of the Order and he was one of the witnesses against him.

As Harry raised Sam's binoculars to his eyes and scanned the distant shoreline, he thought about the omnioculars that he still had safe and sound, tucked away in his improvised rucksack. Would the information that they contained prove his innocence?

Strangely and despite all these worries Harry felt some degree of peace for the first time in ages

Because..........

He was not alone anymore.

Sam.

A newfound friend.

Sam............ ? 

Harry realised that he did not know Sam's other name. Tank he knew had the surname of Thomas, like Dean but he didn't know Sam's last name.

The rhythmic rise and fall of the waves and the slap, slap of the water against the craft's hull helped maintain the sense of tranquillity Harry rarely felt. His scar was calm and pain-free and so was his spirit.

The strange and disturbing revelations about Sam's Grandmother and his conviction that it was his duty to respond to the call for help when, not if, it came made Harry both respect and admire Sam.

It had been two days since Sam and Harry had waved goodbye to Tank and made ready for their trip to Tilbury. Harry had enjoyed the work of readying the boat for their departure, loading provisions and fuel. Checking the equipment, radio, and even the emptying of the bilge tanks etc.

Sam showed Harry the charts of their voyage, showing the water depths and hazards. Harry was intrigued to see the large number of submerged wrecks that were marked. Sam explained that the English Channel was one of the busiest waterways in the world; it was not really surprising that so many vessels had foundered in these waters.

Harry thought back to the magical ship that had brought the students of Durmstrang to Hogwarts nearly two years ago. Like many others Harry could not hide his astonishment when the great whirlpool formed in the Hogwarts lake and the vessel rose from the depths.

Nearly two years!

Harry thought back over all the events that had transpired in that time and the trials he had experienced. Becoming Hogwarts Champion against his will; all the tasks of the tournament and finally that year his ordeal at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Then last year. Harry wracked his brain to remember the phrase that Hermione used to describe it, he knew she had quoted the Queen and it sounded to him like a charm or an incantation. Then the phrase came back to him.

Annus horribilis, horrible year.

Yes, Hermione, you were right it certainly was that. Harry had felt that everything that made his life worth living at Hogwarts had been slowly taken from him, until he was left with nothing but the DA to keep him going.

Finally at Easter even that came to an end when Cho's best friend, Marietta, snitched to Umbridge. Her disclosure should have ensured that Harry was expelled but instead Dumbledore made it look as though the meeting had been all his idea and not Harry's.

When Dumbledore had been on the run from the Ministry, wondered Harry, where did he go?

This train of thought was disrupted when he turned and looked back along the deck.

Whenever he glanced at Sam he always seemed to be looking right at him.

At first this scrutiny was a little unnerving, disturbing almost but as time went on the feeling changed. Harry could not say how he knew but he felt that Sam was undeniably on his side. The first night out Harry had lain in his bunk and seriously considered telling Sam who he really was but who was he really?

_A marked man?_

_A murderer? _

_A saviour?_

A criminal? 

Harry's face was drawn in a tight frown as he pondered these unanswerable questions.

Through the binoculars Harry could see the now-familiar outline of a cross-channel ferry crossing their path and he knew they must be near Newhaven. That meant the lighthouse he could see on the horizon must be marking Beachy Head. To check his theory he shouted back to Sam.

"Well done mate! You're quite right. Once we round Beachy Head it's not too much further to Hastings. I plan on mooring overnight but the skies don't look too good and I'd rather we had a safe haven overnight than try to ride out a storm at sea in this old girl. Its just coming up 7 o'clock and the tide won't turn until nearly midnight. How about we eat ashore tonight?"

"Whatever you say Skipper!" Harry called back cheerily. At first reluctant to accept the welcome food Sam prepared in the tiny galley of the "Griselda", Harry finally gave in and enjoyed Sam's basic but more than edible food. Sam had finally convinced Harry that no only was he earning his keep but that he was actually good company and thus making the trip up to Tilbury very much more enjoyable and safer than it would have been solo.

As the first few spots of rain landed on the deck, Harry turned and made his way inside the cabin to where Sam stood at the wheel.

"You take over for a minute. I've a job to do." Harry took hold of the wheel and Sam told him what to do and to keep an eye on the compass.

"This is the life!" Thought Harry. If I am outcast from the wizarding world then perhaps I could stay here with Sam. Earn my keep or work on a boat with someone else.

At first he'd thought it strange that he didn't seem to feel seasick at all when they had entered the Solent from the safety of Southampton Water. Harry had felt comfortable and at home almost as soon as he had set foot on the Griselda and he supposed that the tossing and turning of the sea was much like being tossed around by high winds in a Quidditch match. That never worried Harry and neither had the sea.

Standing there Harry couldn't help but feel a smile play across his face but it didn't stay there for long.

In the corner of the cabin was Sam's maritime radio. It had been tuned to the shipping forecast and Sam had noted the details in the log but now the forecast was over.

Sam was listening intently to the news.

The national news on BBC Radio 4.

The broadcaster's voice was saying "The Surrey Police have repeated their request for any information in connection with the murder of a family in Little Whinging, Surrey. Chief Inspector Reid repeated the description of the 16 year-old boy sought for questioning. He is described at being 5'9" slim build with jet black hair, vivid green eyes and with a lightning bolt shaped scar above his right eye. The Police advise members of the public to not approach this individual as he is described as highly dangerous and possibly mentally unstable. Information should be telephoned to ........"

That was it.

The Griselda was fitted with a ship-to-shore radio. All Sam had to do was contact the Coastguard and ask for the Police to be waiting at Hastings. Harry would be taken into custody by the Muggle Police and that would be that.

Harry had spoken to Tank about being wanted and Tank said Sam wasn't too fond of the Police. Had Tank told Harry's tale to Sam? He'd had plenty of chance to.

Before he turned to look at Sam he could feel his eyes staring at him.

Slowly, Harry turned expecting to find an expression of fear? ... loathing? ... disgust? on Sam's usually smiling face.

But what he saw was an expression that showed no trace of condemnation but only concern.

"Is there something that _you_ want to tell me.... _Seeker?"_

Harry looked down at the floor, a lump forming in his throat as myriad thoughts raced through his mind.

What about the Statute of Secrecy? By telling Sam who or what he was would he be committing another offence? Would he be able to explain to Sam what had really happened _without_ telling him he was a wizard? When Harry at last raised his head to look Sam in the face it was through tear-filled eyes.

"It's a long story. I have no right to involve you, I could put you in danger and just make matters worse."

"Let's drop anchor here and go below. You can tell me what you can over a nice hot cup of tea."

Harry was immediately reminded of Ron saying "It's what my mum always does!" A nice chat over a cup of tea! "Well, it couldn't hurt." Thought Harry and he made his way below to put on the kettle.

Ten minutes later saw Sam and Harry cosily esconced in the tiny galley each clutching a mug of tea and with a packet of custard creams open on the table. More memories, everything seemed to remind him of his life in the wizarding world, a world to which he may never be able to return.

"Right now Seeker, why don't you start by telling me your real name!"

Harry nodded staring at the bubbles in his mug.

"My name is Harry Potter and that news broadcast was about me." Immediately he looked up at Sam's face and saw that he was frowning but he said nothing.

"I told Tank what had happened, I guess I thought he would have told you when I was asleep. Well, just over a week ago my Aunt came to stay. I'd better explain that I live with my Aunt (my mum's sister) and her husband and their son Dudley. My mum and dad were murdered a couple of months after my first birthday but I wasn't killed although sometimes I wish to god I had been."

Harry took a deep steadying breath and continued. "Anyway, as I said, just over a week ago Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, came to stay but she didn't pack her dog's biscuits. I was sent to a local shop to buy some and while I was there I was kidnapped by ... "

Harry struggled for an appropriate non-magical description of Death Eaters; finally he said "some supporters of the person who had murdered my parents. I don't know why they grabbed me but they knocked me out and took me to a big house in Wiltshire. The house was owned by one of the leaders of the gang who told me that someone made to look like me had murdered my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin as well as Aunt Marge and wanted everyone to think I had done it. I managed to escape but while I was getting away I heard a news report saying I was wanted by the Police. They think I murdered them but I didn't! I couldn't murder anyone! I was trying to make my way to London to some friends when I met up with Tank. You know the rest."

When he finished speaking Harry picked up his mug of tea and took a huge gulp. Because he was so tense the tea didn't go down smoothly and Harry began coughing and spluttering.

Sam jumped to his feet and began hitting Harry between the shoulder blades to relieve the coughing fit.

"Sorry! Some of the tea went down the wrong way." Harry exclaimed, now bright red in the face.

"You need to calm yourself, Mr. Potter!" Sam's deep voice proclaimed. Harry looked back into Sam's eyes and once again a powerful memory was brought to mind.

This time the memory came from the day last Easter when Harry had been caught by Umbridge running from the Room of Requirement. On that occasion Kingsley Shacklebolt used the same phrase to Umbridge, after she attempted to shake a response from Marietta Edgecombe. "You need to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge!" Shacklebolt had declared in his deep voice.

"_If only Sam was Shacklebolt._" Thought Harry, "_I could just let him sort out everything, he could get in touch with Dumbledore and make sure the omnioculars get to the Order!"_

Unfortunately for Harry, Sam was a muggle with no knowledge of the wizarding world.

"I'm okay now, thanks." Harry then had to ask the question to which he dreaded Sam's answer.

"Are you going to hand me over to the Police?"

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Author's notes: Thank you for all your reviews, each and every one is very much appreciated.


	9. Forged

**Chapter 9 : Forged **

"Are you going to hand me over to the Police?"

Harry sat there, eyes glued to Sam's face waiting for his response but instead of answering Harry's question Sam posed one of his own.

"If you were in my shoes and had just heard your story, what would you do?"

Thinking back over the version of events that he had told Sam Harry simply sighed and said "You don't really have much choice I suppose. I don't know that I'd believe it."

Harry thought also of all the wondrous magical things of which he had learned since his eleventh birthday, witches, wizards, dragons, spells and animagi. Not to mention trolls, giants and hippogriffs. The wizarding world had very strict laws about revealing itself to non-magic folk, more commonly called Muggles, and the Statute of Secrecy had stiff penalties for those breaking it.

If only Harry could explain to Sam about the magical world then he would understand but he couldn't.

Harry rose from his seat slowly "I'll go and get my stuff together while you phone the police." He turned to leave the tiny cabin not wanting to look Sam in the face.

He still had his back to Sam when he heard "Would it help if I told you that my paternal grandparents were both squibbs?"

His jaw open in astonishment, Harry spun his body round to face Sam so fast that his feet didn't have time to catch up and he nearly fell over. "Squibbs?" Harry managed to splutter out.

"Yup! Both my Grandad and Grandma on my Dad's side were squibbs. Not a drop of magical blood between the pair of them, nor in any of their children or grandchildren."

Harry had plonked himself back down on the seat staring wide-eyed at Sam.

"As soon as I heard the name Harry Potter on the radio-broadcast I wondered if it was the same Harry Potter who brought down Voldemort when I was a kid. I remember going to a party with my mum and dad and looking just like you do now. There were fireworks that seemed to go on for hours. Food that made the craziest things happen when you ate it. I had some chewing gum that made bubbles that lasted for hours!"

"So you know about witches and wizards?"

"Oh yeah! Just 'cos I can't do magic doesn't mean I don't know about the magical world. So, would you like to try and tell me what happened again?"

It was with a much lighter heart that Harry was able to explain to Sam EXACTLY what had happened and to not leave anything out, well not a lot anyway. Harry kept his knowledge of the Order of the Phoenix to himself as he had no wish to jeopardise any of the members by a careless slip of the tongue.

"These monoculars you've got show whatever it is that Voldemort, Malfoy and the Death Eaters are up to then."

"Yes and it's vital that I get them to Dumbledore as soon as possible. Everyone always says that Dumbledore is the only wizard that Voldemort is afraid of so I reckon he'd be the best person to get them to and so that's where I'm headed."

"Isn't Dumbledore at Hogwarts?"

"I suppose so!" replied Harry "But I have another address I can contact him at in an emergency and it's in London. If I can come with you to Tilbury I should be able to get to London from there. It is walking distance isn't it?"

"Sure it's walking distance but it's a long walk – about 20 miles or so I reckon but loads of lorries head into town from the docks and you could hitch a lift or just get a train. Mind you we've a good few miles to go until we reach Tilbury and I'm starving hungry. Let's go ashore to eat."

Sam rose from the tiny table but sat down again when he noted Harry's forlorn expression.

"You worried about being recognised?" queries Sam.

Harry nodded his confirmation and said "If I'm spotted and arrested you'll be in trouble for harbouring a fugitive. I don't want that after all you've done for me."

Sam looked at the earnest cast to Harry's eyes and said in a low and reassuring voice" Now why don't you let me worry about that! I'm certain we can sort out a quick disguise. Well good enough to go ashore for a few hours anyway."

As Harry's mind clicked into logical puzzle-solving mode he remembered the hat that Tank had given him. He retrieved it from his pillowcase rucksack and stuck it on his head. Sam, meanwhile, had been rummaging around in a box of bits and pieces that he kept under his bunk.

Emerging at last he shouted "Eureka! I have found it!" holding aloft some clip-on sunglasses. "These should fit your frames OK."

Harry took off his glasses and Sam quickly attached the clip-ons which fitted quite well after a little adjustment. With the hat on his head and his new sunglasses Harry thought his disguise was OK. Well OK enough for a couple of hours anyway.

They moored the Griselda and made their way ashore.

"Got to have fish and chips in Hastings – best you can get anywhere." Proclaimed Sam but Harry had spotted an item on the menu that reminded him somewhat forcefully of Ron.

Double Mixed Grill! If you can eat it all then you can eat on us! Read the challenge on the board outside the restaurant.

"My best friend Ron would love to take them up on that. He doesn't eat his food he breathes it in!"

"Ron?" queried Sam "Who's Ron?"

"My best friend, or rather one of them." Harry was still reluctant to let Sam know too many personal details. Mad-eye Moody was always going on about "constant vigilance" and would probably be horrified at the amount of info Harry had already given to Sam. Last year Harry had put his closest friends at great personal risk during their trip to the Department of Mysteries and he had no desire to repeat his error.

In an effort to change the subject Harry said "Isn't Hastings the place where the Norman Invasion took place?" He remembered this fact from his junior school history classes – they had been a lot more interesting than his History of Magic lessons at Hogwarts.

"Yes, it sure is. The main battle took place a couple of miles inland. There's an Abbey on the site called, funnily enough, Battle Abbey. Well worth a visit if you're into history. Me I'm more interested in the future than the past. Get than from my Gran I suppose, she's great at reading the future. Tea leaves, palms, crystal ball, that sort of thing. She's well known for it."

The conversation had been flowing as the two made their way along the seafront to a fish restaurant that Sam said was the best in Town. It was immaculately clean with sparkling black and white tiles on the floor and walls with a gleaming steel fish fryer. The smell of fish and chips accompanied by the unmistakable tang of vinegar made Harry's mouth water.

They seated themselves at a table near the back of the restaurant next to a fire escape. _If the police do come in then I can make a quick getaway, _thought Harry but his attention was quickly focused on his meal of cod and chips with a mug of hot, strong tea. It's difficult to be vigilant and to enjoy such delicious food.

As they finished their meal Sam leaned over and whispered conspiratorially to Harry "Don't look at the desert menu – there's a treat I've saved for you – come with me!"

Sam paid the bill and the two of them left the warmth of the restaurant and felt the cool night air on their face as they walked further along the seafront.

There was a queue of people standing waiting to be served but Harry couldn't make out what they were waiting for but he joined the queue next to Sam anyway. They slowly moved forward and then Harry saw....

"Waffles! We're queuing up for waffles?"

"Yeah, but not _just_ waffles. Just you try and them!"

By now they'd reached the head of the queue "Two of your Summer Specials please!" The young girl working behind the counter of the seafront kiosk quickly and efficiently cooked two waffles on a waffle iron then sprinkled sugar on the still-hot waffles. Next, she added two extremely generous helpings of whipped cream and topped the lot off with slice after slice of fresh strawberry. The waffle was placed on squares of greaseproof paper and handed them to Sam and to Harry.

They were delicious!

Both Sam and Harry ended up with cream on their noses and laughed at each other as they tried to lick the cream off with their tongues. Harry couldn't remember eating anything quite so delicious including all the Hogwarts feasts he'd attended.

Sam and Harry had seated themselves on a seafront bench while enjoying their waffles but as Harry licked the last of the cream from his fingers and gazed out over the sea his calm enjoyment was brought to an abrupt and very painful end.

The scar on Harry's forehead erupted with pain causing him to cry out and clutch at his head convulsively. His scream of pain had caught the attention of passers-by some of whom rushed to his side offering help.

As it was now dark Harry no longer had the clip-on sunglasses on and as the pain reached fever-pitch causing him to rub the scar in a fruitless effort to ease the excruciating pain the second half of his disguise – namely the hat – ended up on the floor.

A middle-aged man with greying hair and a neat-cut beard had pushed to the front of the crowd around Harry.

"Stand back please and let me through! I'm a doctor."

By this time Harry was lying flat on his back, Sam was kneeling at his side. The doctor grabbed Harry's wrist supposedly to check his pulse but his fingers were nowhere near the pulse points below the thumb.

Sam helped Harry sit up at his proclamation of "I'm fine now. Really I'm OK. I don't need anything."

Pulling his roughly from the doctor's grasp Harry looked down and saw what was in the Doctor's bag. Bottles that would not have been out of place in Snape's dungeon and what was unmistakably _a wand!_

Seeing Harry's glance and sharp intake of breath, the doctor said very quietly "Now, now Mr. Potter. Please don't make a scene. Let's do things as quietly and unobtrusively as possible."

Harry's look of horror was quickly noticed by Sam. Unfortunately at that precise moment another man in the crowd shouted.

"Hey isn't that the kid the Police are looking for? His picture was on tonight's news. He's a murderer!"

Harry felt himself being pulled roughly to his feet with hands holding both his upper arms in vice-like grips. Someone was talking into a mobile phone and obviously giving directions to the Police.

"Hurry, we've got hold of that kid that's wanted for the murder of his family in Surrey. Harry Potter. Yeah, he can't get away; two of my mates have got hold of him. We're outside the 'Bel-Air' B&B on Marine Parade."

Harry could hear Police sirens in the distance as he looked fearfully around the crowd. The two men holding his arms and wrists were confident they could hold on to their prisoner, after all he was a skinny kid, until the Police arrived but as the Police cars got closer Harry knew he had to get away fast.

Suddenly there was a surge through Harry. Of what? Power? Electricity? Harry didn't know but at that moment both men released Harry, as they could no longer hold him. In that same instance Harry put his head down and charged at the crowd. They parted at the sudden change in events and Harry found his path miraculously clear.

He ran!

He ran as though his very life depended on it – which it probably did!

Harry ran until he reached an amusement arcade packed with teenagers; he passed inside and strolled around trying to look as though he'd been there for hours. Then he saw the signs for the toilets. Harry went inside and entered a cubicle right at the back.

He was in luck! The cubicle had a window in at, although it looked as though it hadn't been opened in some time, when Harry gave it an almighty push it opened; he was able to slip between the bars and drop down into a back alley. Trying to make as little noise as possible Harry moved to the end of the alley to get his bearings. To his right rose the steep hill with Hastings Castle on its top. Behind him was the sea and to his left was the town centre.

Knowing that he had to make his way back to Sam's boat, Harry headed inland and away from where he reckoned the Police would be. A long route round Castle Hill then he could make his way eastwards to the Harbour.

Walking over Castle Hill Harry's feet encased in the too large trainers and the bottom of his baggy jeans quickly became sodden from the still wet grass. Looking back towards the waffle stall, Harry could see the flashing lights atop the police cars; there were three of them now and Harry could just make out the policemen talking to the crowd.

Between Harry and the sea loomed the ruins of Hastings Castle. As he stood and looked at the jagged remains Harry remembered Hermione's words about Hogwarts "If a muggle looks at it, all they see is a mouldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying "Danger – do not enter – unsafe!" Here however all Harry could see were ruins with a well-maintained fence and a ticket office with a sign showing opening times and admission prices.

_If only it had muggle-repelling charms on it then perhaps I could enter and hide from the Police_, thought Harry. To his astonishment the entrance gate seemed to glow blue and shimmer for a split second. Cautiously Harry approached it and held out one hand to touch it. His hand went straight through! It _was_ charmed! Harry stepped right up to and through the gate.

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­**Author's notes:** Thanks to all my reviewers; your comments are very much appreciated. Have been writing like mad and have almost finished the story... volume 1 at least! Looks to run to something like 30 chapters before 1st September. Will try and update once a week. 


	10. Invitation

Chapter 10 : Invitation 

Harry felt a strange tingling sensation as he passed through the ward guarding the magical entrance to the castle. At the same instance Harry suddenly realised that in his haste to evade the Muggle police he might be handing himself straight to the Magical Law Enforcement Squad! For all he knew this could be the base for Aurors or whatever? But when Harry looked around he was confused to realise that the ruins were still just that – ruins! The only difference seemed to be that he was now inside the castle perimeter instead of outside the fence.

A wave of tiredness swept over Harry and he gave a huge yawn. _Sleep! I need to sleep!_ He thought to himself. Following the ruins he found a cosy corner in which to curl up and after sweeping away some small rocks and pebbles with his feet and laying down some long dry grass as a makeshift mattress, Harry curled up to sleep.

_----zzzzzz----_

_He was standing on a grassy knoll atop a towering granite cliff. Angry waves broke on the rocks below him. Gulls screeched and flew up and down in seeming random movements like feathers in a pillow fight. Above him the sky was a clear opalescent blue and, Harry thought wistfully, perfect Quidditch conditions with barely a breeze blowing._

_He was alone._

_Quite alone._

_Harry idly wondered if he were to just step forward off the cliff-edge how long it would take until his body were smashed on the jagged rocks below. He also wondered in this remote landscape how long it would be until anyone found his body and would it be recognisable when – if – they did? Perhaps it would just end up as food for the fish and the gulls._

_Harry was lost in these deep dark thoughts when he became suddenly aware of someone standing at his shoulder._

_Immediately Harry panicked that this person was going to push him off the cliff's edge!_

_The figure spoke._

"_It's funny isn't it!" the voice, the very recognisable voice, said. "It's one thing to seriously consider jumping off a clip but quite another to let someone else do it for you!"_

_Harry turned to look into his Godfather's face. _

_Sirius spoke again. Harry, stunned, just stood and listened._

"_Dumbledore once said to me that those we have truly loved, never leave us, but reside forever within our hearts and minds. That is where I am now Harry. I'm not a ghost – well not in the sense that Sir Nick is anyway."_

"_But you look so solid? And where are we anyway?" questioned Harry._

"_Your desperation, loneliness and need have created this place in your mind Harry. Here we can converse but we can never touch. I can relay to you all my hopes and desires and can therefore guide you, hopefully to ease your troubles."_

"_TROUBLES!" exclaimed Harry. "Yeah! Those I'm very familiar with!" he turned back to stare at the distant horizon. The two stood side-by-side until finally Harry sat cross-legged on the warm grass. Sirius lay down full length beside him. Harry idly tore off a long blade of grass and played with it between his fingers as he recounted the events of the past ten days._

"…_and the muggle police are searching for me too! Sirius you were on the run for years – how did you do it? How did you cope? It's not even been a fortnight and I feel as though I've aged about five years! And, what about the Weasleys? They will probably turn their back on me! And Hermione! What would she say?"_

_At the mention of the Weasleys Sirius sat up. "Are you thinking of the Weasleys in general or one in particular?"_

"_Well Ron is my best mate, so what he thinks matters to me" said Harry but Sirius raised his eyebrows in question._

"_Are you sure his is the only opinion that you care about?"_

"_Well, I know Mr. And Mrs. Weasley almost think of me as one of their own." Harry remembered, a sudden chill going up his spine, Mrs. Weasley turning the boggart into a dead Harry last year in Grimmauld Place._

"_I was thinking of the other female Weasley" said Sirius. Harry turned his head and looked back out to sea, unwilling to meet his Godfather's eyes._

"_Harry I told you that I reside in your heart… but I am not alone. How else do you think I know to whom your thoughts and heart belong?"_

"_I don't deserve her though Sirius. She should forget me. I'll only put her at risk as I did you. I killed you and I'll probably only hurt or get her killed too."_

_Harry was speaking into his hands as he had covered his face, his palms rubbing across his aching scar. He was startled to feel a hand placed gently on his shoulder. Turning his head towards the hand, he was surprised that it was small and delicate with neatly manicured nails and a dainty ring on its middle finger._

_A female hand._

_Wearing a familiar ring._

_A ring he had bought and given to……_

"_GINNY!" Harry exclaimed as he jumped up to see before him the one person he had longed to see without even realising it. Ginny gave him a small sad smile as she reached out to gently cup Harry's cheek in her hand._

_Harry was surprised and pleased by that simple gesture but was too terrified of rejection to openly accept it as the sign of a true and loving friendship that it was. He took a step away from her and her expression became sadder still._

"_Harry? What's wrong?" the figure of Ginny asked._

"_Oh God! No!" Harry cried as he sank sobbing to his knees on the grass. The sky overhead had become dull grey and the temperature had dropped as Harry's mood had plummeted._

"_If I can see you too then I must have caused your death too! What happened? Did the Death Eaters kill you while they were trying to find me?" _

"_No Harry! No! I'm not dead. I'm fine, honestly I am. Well, I was feeling a bit drained as Dad came home from work and said that he still had no news as to what had happened to you. Last I remember I'd run upstairs and had lain on my bed and now… … I'm here, talking to you! I don't know how? Oh, Harry. Tell me you're not dead and that I'm just dreaming all this?"_

_The two teenagers were now standing facing each other both with tears trickling down their faces, they had forgotten about, or in Ginny's case, not recognised Sirius' continued presence and both jumped when he spoke._

"_I think I know what's going on here. Have either of you ever heard of somnilomency?"_

_They both shook their heads. "Sit down and I'll try to explain. It's a pity Remus or Dumbledore weren't here, they could explain far better than I. Anyway here goes."_

_When two witches or wizards bond very occasionally – I would go so far as to say rarely – a very special connection or bond can be formed. A bond so deep it exists also on a subconscious level. With this type of bond communication can become instinctual – feeling what the other feels. Harry, you have a bond of this sort with Voldemort with the link through your scar. Your link with Ginny though was formed in the Chamber of Secrets when you saved Ginny's life."_

_Harry face had the first glimmer of hope and understanding showing clearly upon it as he recalled, "Dumbledore told me that I had a bond with Wormtail because I had saved his life! He said that this type of magic was the deepest and most impenetrable. I that the type of bond you mean?"_

"_That's it exactly! I'd forgotten about that. Anyway, because of your" Sirius pointed at the two of them "connection then you can communicate even though you are far apart. The distance can be physical, like the two of you, or spiritual or astral like us. You've always been very receptive mentally, Harry, when asleep but Ginny's worry and concern for you has now awoken her link to you._

_The one drawback is you can only communicate when the two of you are sound asleep. Unfortunately I don't know how much, if any, of this conversation you will recall when you awaken. And you can't bring anything physical into this meeting-place. It's not real you see, just as I am not real – not anymore that is! Do you understand? The pair of you have kept awfully quiet."_

"_I don't know!" Harry answered truthfully._

_Slowly, very slowly Harry moved his gaze from Sirius to Ginny. He looked into the depths of her and seemed to see into her very soul._

"_Can this be true?"_

_Harry heard the words and saw a line of puzzlement form on her brow but her lips had not moved._

"_GINNY?" Harry thought his question "Is that you?" he continued without uttering a sound._

"_HARRY?" Her mouth opened in shock but her voice remained silent. "How come I can hear you when you're not speaking?"_

"_I… … don't know!" he stuttered. They turned in unison to further question Sirius but found that they were now quite alone._

_Harry span around, searching for his godfather._

"Sirius? SIRIUS?" 

_No answer to his cry came forth._

"_SIRIUS! Don't leave me! Not yet! Please!"_

"_Harry, I will do what I can to answer your questions but for now Ginny's needs are greater than mind. You are no longer alone. You must learn to trust…. And to love."_

_As he realised that his godfather was gone once more Harry sank down to his knees and buried his face in his hands._

"_Come back!" he said quietly, pleadingly._

"_Harry?"_

_A soft hand was laid on his shoulder. When Ginny got no response she moved in front of Harry and knelt before him and gently took his hands in hers and pulled them away from his face. She looked into their vivid green pools shining with unshed tears and her heart felt as though it was breaking._

"_Harry, you heard his words as well as I did. Sirius will be with us always – he lives in the hearts of those that loved him and you most of all. We have been given a chance to speak with him and we must trust what he told us."_

"_Trust? How can I trust what I don't understand? I trusted Dumbledore and look where that led me. If he'd been honest with me and told me…."_

_Harry hesitated Ginny knew nothing about the prophecy and he was going to keep it that way._

"…_. Everything I might not have made the decisions I did. He manipulated me, gin, I felt like a damn puppet with him pulling my strings."_

_Ginny sat before him with her hands clasped lightly together in her lap._

"_Well that's certainly a feeling I understand all too well Harry."_

"_You? How can you?" He snapped back at her. "You're just…."_

"_Just what, Harry?" She continued without giving Harry a chance to answer. Ginny was now standing towering over Harry with one hand on her hips and the other wagging a finger in Harry's face. Her stance and her temper reminded Harry forcefully of another redhead but not Mrs. Weasley. Ginny at that moment reminded Harry most forcefully of his own mother lecturing James Potter over his behaviour towards Snape._

"…… _and you're not even listening to me now! Boys! You're all impossible!"_

"_Sorry Gin! Really I am, I'm just so confused."_

"_You're confused! Well I've got news for you Harry James Potter, you're not the only one!"_

_Harry was now listening to what Ginny was saying, really listening. The two teens sat side-by-side looking from the clip-top to the distant setting sun casting an orange-red glow on the gulls whirling below making them appear other-worldly._

_Ginny told Harry that the first they knew of events at Privet Drive was when the whole family were woken by a group of Aurors wanting to search for Harry. When asked why they were looking for him the Weasleys were told bluntly that he was a murderer and that they had a warrant for his immediate arrest and incarceration in Azkaban._

_Ginny went on to say that her Mum stood in the front yard and was in the middle of giving the Aurors a piece of her mind when they told her that one of own sons was a witness to the crime._

_Still Molly stood arms akimbo._

"_Well I wouldn't believe a word Percy says after the way he behaved last year. I certainly didn't bring him up to …."_

_But her words failed her when a redheaded figure moved through the Aurors to stand before his mother._

_It was not Percy._

_It was Bill._

_He was very pale and had bags under his eyes._

"_I saw him Mum! I saw Harry kill his Aunt, Uncle and cousin! I SAW HIM!"_

"_No! I can't be true! Harry would never…!"_

_Bill's nod was like a knife plunged into his mother's heart. Molly Weasleys knees gave out and if Arthur hadn't been at her side, as always, she would have ended up on the floor._

"_Oh! Harry! Harry! What have you done?"_

_Bill and his father led Molly back into the warmth of the kitchen. The Aurors went to follow but Arthur stopped them at the threshold._

"_You may have a warrant for the arrest of Harry Potter but you do not have one to search my home; so until you do you will leave my property."_

_The rest of the family had been woken by the noise and Fred, George and Ron stood at their father's shoulder._

"_You're quite right of course but we will be back, you can be assured of that." On that note the Aurors turned as one and walked back along the path._

"_What's going on Dad?" observed Ron, Ginny and the twins._

"_That's what I'd like to know!" echoed their father._

_All the Weasleys were now gathered around the kitchen table._

_---- ooo ----_

_As Ginny continued with her narrative Harry had stood up and was pacing back and forth, his hands alternately pulling at his hair or thumping on fist into the palm of the other hand._

"_Bill told us what he'd seen, Harry, but I'm sure Mum and Dad didn't believe it. Ron definitely didn't. Straight away he said that a Death Eater could have used polyjuice potion to impersonate you. At that Bill had to agree that it was possible. He'd followed you from home under an invisibility cloak and saw you enter a shop. He thought you'd be only a couple of minutes and was surprised when it was almost a quarter of an hour before you reappeared and headed home. I asked Bill what you were wearing and he said you had on jeans and a white t-shirt. When he thought some more though he remembered thinking that the t-shirt seemed a lot cleaner when "you" came out of the shop than when "you" went in."_

"_Well, that makes sense." Said Harry. "I'd been gardening all day and Aunt Marge didn't give me the chance to have a drink before running her errand, let alone change my clothes."_

_Ginny looked Harry up and down; he was still wearing jeans and a sort-of-white t-short. Thanks to Sam his clothes had been laundered but now were beginning to get 'high' in the fragrance stakes._

"_It's a good job we're dreaming or whatever this is 'cos I don't reckon I smell too sweet about now."_

"_And those shoes!" said Ginny._

"_What? What's wrong with them?"_

"_They're both left feet!" replied Ginny barely being able to stifle the giggle that threatened to erupt._

"_No wonder my right foot's been feeling weird. I hurt both feet and they've been wrapped in makeshift bandages." Ginny's laugh turned to a scowl and a look of concern._

"_Harry, what happened? Tell me, please?"_

_So he did._

* * *

Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review this story. Hopefully those folk who were wanting to know what was going on with the Weasleys will be pleased to see Ginny in this chapter. 


	11. Sympathy but no tea

Chapter 11 : Sympathy but no tea 

_Harry and Ginny sat in companionable silence side-by-side on the cliff top. The sky above them was a velvety blue with not a single cloud to mar its perfection. The gulls seemed to have settled on their nests and perches. In the peace they heard the drone of a bumblebee flying from one wildflower to another. _

_Tranquillity. Peace. Serenity._

_Inwardly, however, both Ginny's and Harry's emotions were in turmoil._

_Ginny felt relieved to know that Harry hadn't committed the horrendous crimes of which he had been accused. She'd already felt the truth but was so happy to hear it from Harry's own lips._

_Ginny also felt a great compassion for Harry's plight and suffering since his abduction and amazement at his resilience –" he'd done all that and without magic!" Growing up in a wizarding family Ginny couldn't begin to imaging coping in the muggle world the way Harry had done._

_While these thoughts were running through Ginny's mind Harry was mulling over everything Ginny and Sirius had told him._

_Would he remember Mrs. Weasley's staunch protest to the Aurors that he was innocent?_

_When she awoke would Ginny remember anything that he had told her? Or, would it all seem as real as a dream – all too soon to be forgotten?_

_If she did remember, would anyone believe her?_

_Would she be able to prove any of it?_

_So many unanswerable questions. Just thinking them through made Harry's head hurt._

--- zzz ---

"Oi! Kid! Wotcher think you're doing?"

Harry awoke suddenly at the sound of the angry voice and a size 10 boot pushing against his back.

"You're not allowed in here! If you've done any damage …..!"

But Harry had already jumped up and grabbed his glasses, putting them back on quickly and made a break. Adrenaline was flowing and he suddenly found he was outside the Castle grounds with no memory of passing back through the wards. He was running and did not stop. He ran towards the old harbour, instinct making him run towards the only friend he had in these parts. Sam.

"SEEKER! Over here!"

Relief! Harry's heart was still beating fifteen to the dozen when he spotted Sam waving at him. Harry ran straight to him and without a word the two boarded The Griselda as though following a pre-arranged plan.

The engine was already running and at a word from her skipper the mooring was slipped and The Griselda made for the open sea once more.

The engine's rhythmic beat again calmed Harry so that he was able to thank Sam for his rescue. Sam had told the Police that the kid he'd given a lift to did look like the person featured on the news but he could swear that on the day the murders had occurred he'd been with Sam all day in Southampton making his boat ready for this trip to Tilbury. At that point the "Doctor" came forward and told the police that the young man who had just evaded the Police definitely did NOT have a scar on his forehead.

So the Police stopped their search and left.

"Why though?" queried Harry to Sam as they journeyed on towards Tilbury. Sam had made them a stack of hot buttered toast and mugs of strong tea and the two reflected on the previous day.

"Why what?" countered Sam.

"Why did the Doctor say I didn't have a scar when he knew exactly who I was? He even used my name! And when I looked in his bag I swear he had a wand. Unless ……!"

"…. he was trying to recapture you for you-know-who!"

"That must be it. I didn't recognise his face though but then again who knows how many Death Eaters Voldemort's got by now. I know recruitment was big on his list of 'to do's'"

He did not know why but Harry shared with Sam none of the information Ginny had given him in his 'dream' or whatever it was. He was just so glad that he recalled if all after the abrupt wake-up call from the Security Guard or whoever he was. As he sipped his tea he thought again of Ginny's words and got to wondering how much, if any, of their conversation she would be able to recall.

---ooo--- 

"Ginny! Come on wake up! It's seven-thirty and I promised that we'd all be at the Lovegood's to help harvest the raspberries at nine. Goodness knows how they manage to grow such a superb crop each year but old Mrs. Lovegood's raspberry wine is just the best and you know she always gives half a dozen bottles for helping with the harvest. We're going to be short-handed this year as well as Fred and George aren't around to help."

Mrs. Weasley's voice became a distant drone as she continued her speech while making her way back downstairs. Wanting to stay in that warm and comfortable half-asleep half-awake state, Ginny pulled her covers farther over her head. Her thoughts returned to the long conversation her 'dream' contained.

When she closed her eyes once more Ginny could see the image of Harry in his dirty and worn clothes, his feet encased in two left shoes and his eyes with dark rings around them. His words, and the words of Sirius, returned to her and suddenly she was wide-awake.

"MUM!" Screamed Ginny at the top of her voice.

"Gin? What's wrong?" Molly Weasley came panting into her only daughter's bedroom closely followed by her youngest son, Ron.

"What's wrong?" demanded Molly.

"I…. It's Harry…. He…..!"

Ron had moved round to sit close by Ginny to reassure her just as he had done when they were small. He picked up her hand and looked in her eyes. "What about Harry, Gin, you had a bad dream or something?"

Feeling Ron's hand in hers had calmed her down as his presence always had. It was funny how Ron seemed to instinctively know what she was feeling. Now she turned to look him straight in the eyes as she said.

"Harry's innocent! He's really innocent! Before, I felt it was true but couldn't see how but now I know!"

"Ginny love" Molly said soothingly "please don't. We all know how much you … _cared _… for Harry and I know how much you hurt for the way things have turned out but all the evidence…. "

"Evidence! Mum how could you? How could Bill?"

Before she went on Ginny took her hand from Ron's and stood up at the side of her bed and looked down on her Mum and brother; she took a deep calming breath before she began her narrative. She told them everything that Harry had told her, she only omitted her own feeling of almost inexpressible joy at knowing Harry was innocent and free from immediate danger but her sadness that they couldn't be together for the foreseeable future.

"…. and Harry still has the omnioculars safe and he's going to try and get them to the Order at Grimmauld Place if he can. But he was still being pursued by the muggle police and the Death Eaters. D Oh Mum! What can we do to help him!"

Molly Weasley had been unusually quiet all through her daughters re-telling of her night's experiences. Finally she stood and looked her daughter in the eye and Ginny could see the unshed tears in her mother's eyes and felt sure they were a mirror of her own.

"Ginny, Ron! Get dressed and get over to the Lovegood's." At her two children's unspoken but all too obvious protest, Molly held up her hand as she said.

"As far as everyone is concerned Harry is a fugitive wanted for murder. We must seem as though nothing has changed from yesterday and that we believe the evidence we have so far been given. But I want Harry back home here where he belongs! With his family! And that can't happen until we can irrefutably prove his innocence. Ginny you may be able, with Harry's help, to be able to supply that evidence."

"But Mum, it was only a dream – _wasn't it?_" protested Ron.

"That, Ron, is what we'll have to prove one way or another. Now, you two get going and not another word about this until you get home."

At that dismissal, Ron and Ginny did just as their Mother had commanded.

---ooo---

Considering The Griselda was only 40 feet long, Harry was surprised just how much privacy he had. Harry had shared with Sam a little of what had happened after his pursuit through Hastings. He had told Sam that he had found a corner where he had curled up to get some sleep and that he had a weird dream – interrupted by a Security Guard. He had not, however, shared with Sam all that had transpired between Ginny and himself, nor had he mentioned Sirius.

Harry had kept a lot back but as he glanced at Sam standing stock-still holding the ship's wheel; he couldn't help but feel that Sam knew he was being, if not exactly evasive, then certainly selective. Harry didn't know why but although he trusted Sam he didn't want to …. _burden_ him.

That was it.

Harry's problems were just that…. _Harry's_ not anyone else's.

Ever since his confrontation with Dumbledore after the disastrous events in the Department of Mysteries, the realisation of his role in the downfall of Voldemort had weighed heavily on Harry's soul. It was his cross to bear and no one else could carry it for him.

There were those trusted few who would help him with his burden, Ron, Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Remus to name the few. He knew thee were a couple of others he could turn to for help, Neville, Tonks, Mad-Eye or Luna but he knew that ultimately it would be just him and Voldemort.

The events of the past few weeks had given him precious little time to think of Voldemort and how the future would unfurl. But one thing Harry knew for certain, that Ginny Weasley was, is and always had been, (although he hadn't realised it) vital to his success. It wasn't just her love that helped him it was as if she were the other half of a puzzle, or the ….. _key! _Harry was searching for understanding.

Harry was lying flat on his back, both hands lying loosely at his side in the narrow forward cabin's bottom bunk. His stomach was full once more, only this time it was from a big breakfast he had cooked for them in the small but well-equipped galley.

All of Harry's clothes had gone "overboard". Sam had demonstrated his rather unconventional method of doing his laundry. Everything Harry had worn, including the trainers, had been placed in a net drawstring bag attached to a long line. Sam had then thrown the bag overboard to be dragged through the sea while they continued on their way to Tilbury.

Harry drifted off to sleep once more but this time it was, unusually, dreamless.

* * *

What joy! What joy! Can't wait for July 16th! If you are wondering what I am gittering on about, JKR has announced that she has completed Book VI. What a wonderful gift for Christmas.

May I take this opportunity of thanking all my pastreviewersand to wish you all a very peaceful and joyous 2005.


	12. Towards Journey’s End

I'd like to wish anyone who has been following this story a very happy Christmas and New Year. An extra chapter for you all to, hopefully, enjoy.

**Chapter 12 : Towards Journey's End**

"Sam, I don't know what to say. Thanks!"

"It's no big deal. Don't worry about it."

The two travelling companions were sitting eating quarterpounders with fries and a chocolate milk shake. Harry's thanks however were not only for the meal but also for the bags at his feet. Never in his whole life had he been shopping for clothes for himself – apart from getting his robes at Madam Malkins – and it was a nice feeling.

The reason for their impromptu shopping trip had been simple. Sam's washing line had broken and the sea had washed all of Harry's clothes away with the tide. When the line had snapped, Harry had been on deck wearing an old pair of Sam's swimming trunks and at the sudden 'SNAP' and release of tension on the line the two men had looked at each other and then laughed!

They laughed until they ached. It was a good feeling.

Now Harry had a new, for the first time in life, wardrobe of clothes. Knowing he was spending Sam's money (another debt to be repaid when and if he got the chance) Harry was careful to get serviceable but cheap clothes.

Sam had suggested shopping in the Argyle Shopping Centre when they had moored in Ramsgate's inner harbour, as it was nearby and had a good variety of shops but one glance at the prices and Harry (wearing borrowed jeans, sweatshirt and trainers) shook his head.

They left the shopping centre and went to the main High Street and found a selection of charity shops. Harry got a pair of good quality jeans for only £2, two shirts at £1 each and a sweatshirt for £2. A pair of brand new trainers that fitted to perfection topped the outfit off and at only £4.50 were an unbelievable bargain. At Sam's suggestion, Harry also picked up a second-hand rucksack to put all his new clothes in. The only clothes that Sam insisted be bought brand new was underwear, plain black boxers and sports socks. Sam had also given Harry a waterproof jacket that he could keep as it used to belong to his sister who no longer needed it.

They finished up their meal, Sam gathering all the debris together on the tray and carried it over to the bin. Harry, meanwhile had transferred all his purchases into his new rucksack; Harry stood up but as he swung the bag over his shoulder his scar burst with pain.

It was excruciating! Harry's body tensed up as he fought for control but he toppled into a couple of teenagers carrying their tray of food; the food and drinks went everywhere. The young man yelled in anger but his words were drowned out by the pain in Harry's head. One hand pressed tight to his scar his face screwed up in anguish, Harry looked for all the world like a drunk or a drug addict.

Sam however, had seen what had occurred and remembering the consequences of the previous episode, Sam looked around before rushing to Harry's aid. Neither of them had forgotten (how could they?) that the police were still looking for Harry but Sam had reasoned that going about as ordinary as possible was the best camouflage. Harry had been wearing his hat from Tank as he 'hid in plain sight' as Sam had put it. The plan had worked so far and would continue to do so as long as they didn't attract attention. But Harry was obviously struggling now.

"Sorry about your meal. Here's get a replacement on me." Sam thrust a couple of five-pound notes in the young man's hand knowing that his generosity would quell any questions about Harry's behaviour.

"Don't tell me your migraine's come back Joe?" Sam said in a loud voice as he went to Harry's aid. Harry nodded realising what Sam was doing and trying to draw as little attention to himself as he could. Sam supported Harry's weight, what little there was of it, put the rucksack over his own shoulder and slowly they made their way back to the Griselda.

With a great deal of difficulty Harry managed to get back aboard.

"What was all that about?" questioned Sam.

"Voldemort! He's really mad! He's put the Cruciatus on Dolohov because he didn't get me in Hastings. Then, to make things worse, Wormtail came in and told him that he'd not yet been able to get the essence for the potion. Voldemort was about to cast the Cruciatus on Wormtail when he suddenly changed his mood. Now's happy as he can change his plan and "improve matters". I don't have any idea what he means though. It was mainly his moods I was picking up though, I didn't get much in the way of detail."

"How're you feeling now though?"

"The pain's gone. I just feel tired, really tired!"

"Well we'll have to wait for the tide before we can leave and that's not for another two hours. You rest down here, I'm going to check the weather and probably catch 40 winks up on deck. If I'm not down at 15:00hrs then come and wake me up. OK?"

"OK!" replied Harry. Sam left the tiny cabin and returned topside. Before turning in though Harry retrieved the omnioculars from his old makeshift rucksack. Carefully Harry checked they were still in full working order and wrapped them back up then Harry stowed everything away in his new rucksack. It was only then that he put his head down.

A quick glance at his watch told Harry that it was 12:15hrs, he set the alarm for 14:30hrs (he had only just gotten used to using the traditional 24hour timing all sailors used) and closed his eyes.

His thoughts turned immediately to Ginny and Harry sighed to himself. If it were night time then he might be able to communicate with her again during their shared sleep but at 12:15hrs in the middle of the day Ginny was likely sitting down to one of Mrs. Weasley's delicious lunches in The Burrow.

Even Mrs. Weasley's sandwiches seemed to taste better than anyone else's. He thought of the sandwiches Mrs Weasley had Hermione, Ron and Ginny take up to him when he'd been hiding after the attack on Mr. Weasley last Christmas. Harry had believed he had somehow been transported from Hogwarts to London and transformed into a huge snake the fangs of which had almost caused Mr. Weasley's death.

Harry's face suddenly broke into a smile as he recalled how Ginny had laid into him. How could he have been so stupid to forget about Voldemort's possession of her, albeit as Tom Riddle and not Lord Voldemort, back in Ginny's first year?

--- zzzz ---

"That's what I wondered Harry!" The words were spoken by Ginny but this Ginny was sitting on the front steps of Hogwarts and Harry was sitting beside her.

"How …..?" stammered Harry.

"Well, I guess you needed 40 winks the same as me!" It was an expression of Ginny's forthright nature that she did not pretend not to understand Harry's question.

"We can talk again because we're both obviously asleep. I didn't expect you actually, because it's the middle of the day. I've not been sleeping too well so Mum suggested …."

"Suggested…. or insisted?" queried Harry knowing Ginny's mum's forceful insistence whenever she thought she knew best.

"Well, insisted really."

"Why? What's up?" Seeing her face and her evasive glancing away, Harry continued "Ginny, don't go losing sleep over me. I'm not worth it."

"Say's who?" she retorted angrily. "If it was any of us you'd be worrying and blaming yourself. So why not us? Anyway" she continued before Harry got a chance to protest "It wasn't you that kept me awake."

"What was it then? Harry added a quick "Sorry. I don't want to sound as though I'm interrogating you or anything. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Oh Harry! It's awful!" quickly she added "but its NOT your fault."

At these words Harry's stomach knotted painfully. What had happened now? His earnest expression had worry, alarm and panic written all over it. His eyes were full of concern for his extended family.

"Tell me Gin! Please?" he added pleadingly.

"It's Ron!"

"What about him? He's not hurt or anything is he?"

"No. Well nothing new anyway."

Harry balked at the word 'new'. Only a few weeks before during their disastrous adventure in the Ministry of Magic Ron, while trying to recover from a Death Eaters curse, had summoned a brain from a huge tank in the Department of Mysteries. When it reached his outstretched hands the brain had not felt 'weird' as the confused Ron had hoped it would. Instead it wound it's jellyfish-like tentacles around his arms and upper torso.

Harry recalled all too clearly Ron screaming out "No! I don't like it!" before eventually passing out from the pain. Harry had been unable to stay to help him, as he needed to lead the Death Eaters away from his friends.

"So what's up with Ron? He's not ill or anything is he?" asked Harry, his very real concern all too evident in his voice.

"Well, not exactly. It's hard to explain. Since last June Ron's been having these really weird nightmares. He wakes up screaming two or three times a night and unfortunately, he ends up waking us too. Mum and Dad are really worried about him. Sometimes he talks about people and places he remembers but they're not his memories they same to be someone else's.

When Dumbledore came over to tell us what was going on with you and the search and all, Mum and Dad told him about Ron. At Dumbledore's suggestion Madam Pomfrey came to check on Ron's recovery. She said that the Dr. Ubley's Obliviate Unction was no longer working. Sure the physical scard were healing up as well as they are going to but it's the mental scarring."

Harry's brow was furrowed deep with anxiety at that news.

"Oh God! Ginny! It's all my fault! If I hadn't dragged you all to London then Ron would be fine and Sirius…" He left the sentence unfinished.

"Just stop that right now!" snapped Ginny. She was standing two steps down from Harry, hands on her hips and all hell glaring out of her eyes. She'd never looked more like her mother than she did right at that moment.

A sabre-toothed tiger kitten to be sure!

"Harry, do you really think you stood any chance of us letting you go to London alone?" She continued to rant before Harry had a chance to even open his mouth in protest.

"You stood as much chance of stopping us as …. Neville has of becoming Snape's pet pupil! In other words NO CHANCE AT ALL! You didn't force us to go with you nor did you force Sirius to come after you. Stop taking the blame for things you can't change."

"Can't help it." Harry mumbled to his shoelaces. "If I hadn't been so arrogant, so damn certain…."

"Don't think I don't understand why you do it. It's because of those horrible people you grew up with. They blamed you for everything, even things you accidentally did, just because of what you are. Did they ever praise you? Not blooming likely. Oh Harry! You are a truly wonderful caring human being but please, please stop taking the blame for everything! You don't deserve that!"

At the end of this long speech Ginny started to blush. Obvious telling Harry off came easier than praising him to his face.

Harry was now looking her in the eyes and her blush grew more pronounced. He couldn't help but stare with unbridled pleasure, as she got more and more nervous the more he scrutinised her.

Ginny's nervousness however was causing her to twist a strand of her hair between her fingers. Harry found the gesture enchanting and longed to reach out to touch her shining deep, deeper than any of the other Weasley's, red hair.

Harry stood up to reach out but Ginny turned her back on him and started to walk to the edge of the lake. She glanced coyly over her shoulder to encourage him to follow her. Harry fell in step beside her and thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. He started off walking with his head down staring at the grass beneath their feel but when he raised his head to look towards the lake he realised he could see Ginny out of the corner of his eye.

At first she too had walked with her head down, her curtain of shining auburn hair shielding the expression she wore. Thinking Harry couldn't see, she glanced over at him and blushed anew when she caught his eye.

"The best defence is offence" the old saying often used by the twins whenever she tried to get them back for their numerous pranks, suddenly came in to Ginny's mind. She prepared her attack in her mind. She would not take his silence nor the sly looks he was giving her.

She stopped.

She opened her mouth with another rebuke ready on her lips.

But suddenly she found something was there already.

Harry.

Whether it was because he believed this really was all just a dream, or whether the dream-like state allowed him to do something his normal, waking mind, would never have permitted, Harry never knew.

All he did know was that he had crossed the few feet that had separated them as soon as Ginny had stopped and turned toward him. Harry had moved and instinctively his hands had moved to cup each cheek and hold her still as his mouth made a first gentle contact with hers.

For Ginny's part it was all she could do to remember to keep on breathing! Her eyes wide and all her senses on overload.

Harry Potter was kissing her!

Ginny said the words in her mind and yet she couldn't believe it.

Just as suddenly as he moved toward her, Harry released her. He looked at the shock in Ginny's eyes; he stepped away, turned and _ran!_

Once more he ran as though his life depended on it. He seemed to do that a lot lately and he was getting rather good at it.

"HARRY! WAIT!" Ginny yelled with all her might.

Unfortunately for Ginny, Harry just kept going. She hared off after him. She knew she was a fast runner so she put her head down and rang like the wind. Her footsteps pounded the grass leading to the well-worn track around the lake.

"Stop Harry! Please wait!" She shouted breathlessly.

Still he continued running.

"Drastic action called for drastic measures!" Ginny decided. She caught up with Harry as they reached the water's edge but she didn't slow down, if anything she speeded up!

SPLASH!

Ginny had barrelled into Harry and rugby-tackled him. The end result was they both ended up in the lake.

The pebbles at the water's edge were smooth and very slippery, consequently the more Ginny tried to stand up the more she slipped and ended up sitting back down in the ankle-deep ice-cold water.

Harry couldn't help himself as he regained his footing; he just stood and looked at Ginny sitting there all bedraggled and laughed. The more he laughed, however, the more irate Ginny became.

"Instead of laughing you could give me a hand up _IF_ you were a gentleman!" She glared up at him as she sat on the lake bottom.

At that point Harry took pity on her and held out a hand to help her to her feet, a soppy smile still plastered on his face.

Ginny, still glaring daggers at Harry, took the offered hand but instead of using it to regain her footing, pulled him with all her might.

The element of surprise was on Ginny's side and Harry found himself flying forwards and ended up sprawled between Ginny's jeans-clad legs, his chin coming to rest on her abdomen. His face therefore was between her breasts and he was staring at the white blouse that, he now realised, had become almost completely transparent.

Harry looked up into her beautiful deep brown eyes.

Ginny was gasping at his sudden, unplanned and intimate contact with her body; she moved her mouth slowly towards Harry as he reached one hand out to caress her face when ..

--- zzz ---

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_

The alarm on Harry's watch sounded shrill and harsh in the confined space of the forwards cabin. 14:30hrs. Time to get the Griselda ready for the next let of their journey.

Harry had never hated muggle inventions as much as he did that watch!

If only he could have slept for a few more minutes, Harry mused, perhaps he would have been able to kiss Ginny again and Harry knew that he very much wanted to far more than he had ever wanted to kiss Cho last year. Yet again he was surprised at the depth of his feelings for 'The Littlest Weasley!' TLW!

Harry's thoughts were still on Ginny or his reactions might have been quicker when, on going the upper deck of the Griselda, he saw a rat run along the deck towards the sleeping form of Sam.

The sunlight glinted on the creature's silver paw and the sight snapped Harry's brain back into gear. He gave immediate chase but the rat could access places Harry could not.

In no time the rat, otherwise known as Peter Pettigrew, AKA Wormtail, the betrayer of Harry's parents and the reason Harry's godfather had spent 12 years in Azkaban, had disappeared down a drain hole into the sewers.

Cursing himself for focusing on his dream instead of reality, Harry returned to the Griselda where he expected Sam to be making ready for their departure.

Sam, however, was not on deck. In fact he was nowhere to be seen.

Puzzled, Harry went below decks calling out as he went but still there was no sign of him. Now Harry was starting to get worried. Whenever Sam had stepped ashore before he had always let Harry know. Surely Sam would have said something this time?

Standing back in the wheelhouse Harry picked up Sam's muggle binoculars and started to scan the shoreline for his friend; sure enough he spotted Sam about 150 yards away exiting the Harbour Master's Office.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry put the binoculars away and went to complete the preparations for departure. Sam walked back on board as though nothing was wrong.

"Everything's ready skipper!" said Harry trying not to let Sam know how worried he'd been. For some reason Harry kept his sighting of Wormtail to himself. Sam seemed to worry enough as it was, no need to add to it.

"Good work Harry. Cast off then." Sam smiled at Harry as the pair took the small craft back out to open water at the start of the last leg of their journey together.


	13. In Harm’s Way

**Happy New Year one and all!**

**Chapter 13 : In Harm's Way**

The journey from Ramsgate to Tilbury was, as the saying goes, plain sailing. The weather was fine, the sea was calm, everything was aright with the world.

Therefore Harry was worried.

It was like waiting for the other boot to drop of for a punchline that never comes. As the hours ticked by Harry's nerves grew worse and worse; by the time the Griselda had entered the Thames Estuary proper Harry was feeling as nervous as he had just before The Third Task!

Every since leaving Ramsgate Harry had that all too familiar feeling of being watched. But there was only Sam and himself on the small craft. Surely he couldn't be feeling anxious about Sam after all the time they'd spent together and the amount of support Sam had given him?

But the feeling persisted.

His scar had been playing up too.

It hadn't burnt hot and fierce as it had done in the past but it was rather like an itch you wanted to scratch but couldn't. The irritation was making Harry ratty and short-termpered. Sam seemed to be aware of the change in Harry and instead of his usual chatty companionship he displayed whilst steering, Sam was silent, concentrating on his task. Once or twice Harry had glanced at Sam and each time he found him looking straight at Harry's eyes. On the occasions Harry tried to smile back but strangely found great difficulty in doing so and ended up turning back to stare out to sea.

Dusk fell around them as they sailed up the estuary. Street lights appeared on the northern shore and Harry could make out the illuminations on a pleasure pier and seafront. "Wow! That looks brilliant!" exclaimed Harry. He was gazing raptly at the funfair at the beginning of the pier. "Where is that?" he questioned Sam.

"How should I know?" Sam responded; he definitely sounded cross to Harry so he didn't ask anything else.

Sam's response rang a warnoing bell. Harry silently reasoned that Sam should know where it was and what it was. Hadn't he told Harry that he'd brought the Griselda to these waters before? Surely that would mean he knew the area even if only slightly.

"We'll be at journey's end in about 40 minutes Harry." Sam had spoken to Harry's back as Harry had resumed staring out to sea.

"OK." Harry acknowledged quietly.

Their time together on the Griselda had, overall, been enjoyable for Harry. True they had had one or two scares on the journey from Southampton but by-and-large Harry felt he had benefitted from Sam's friendship and support. He didn't want to lose that with Sam after they'd docked, so he asked "Sam, can you let me have a note of your home address so I can write to you?"

"Later Harry. I'm too busy right now."

This evasiveness seemed out of character somehow and again it puzzled Harry. Thinking further on Sam's words Harry thought "perhaps he doesn't want to keep in touch and just says that to fob me off. Why can't people just be honest and say what they really mean!"

The silence became more and more intense as the minutes stretched by. When he could take no more Harry went below without saying a word to Sam.

He thre himself on his bunk irritably and stared at the wooden slats of the bunk overhead, his brow screwed up in puzzlement. Hadn't Sam told him that it was his, Sam's, destiny to help him? Thee couldn't be another HP could there? So why this evasiveness all of a sudden?

It just didn't make sense.

Or did it?

Sam had been his normal, chatty, friendly self when they had been shopping in Ramsgate. Everything had been fine then.

Wormtail!

Harry had not been 100 certain that the rat he'd seen just before their departure had had a silver paw but now he was sure of it.

It was the only thing that made sense but what had he done?

Had he bewitched Sam? Had the Imperius Curse been put on him and if it had, what had he been ordered to do?

Harry could guess at that. The chance was Sam had been ordered to either kill Harry or capture him and hand him over to the Death Eaters. Remembered back to his last vision of Voldemort, Harry reasoned that Sam had been ordered to make sure that Harry did not escape from the Death Eaters when they reached shore. That meant that he, Harry, would have to part company from Sam the first chance he got.

"Right then!" Harry said to himself "Better get ready now." He rose from his bunk, pulled out his rucksack and put everything inside it. Looking over his few meagre possessions Harry wished he still had his wand with him. The loss of it made him feel far more vulnerable that he liked.

Would he ever get a chance to recover it? It was brother to Voldemort's own wand, the wand that had killed his parents and left Harry with the scan on his forehad. Perhaps it would be getter if he got another wand but until his name was cleared Harry could see no way to get another wand. He couldn't very well just walk into Ollivander's and buy a new wand. The Aurors or the MLES would have him in an instant and he'd be in Azkaban before you could say "Phoenix Feather!"

But his wand was not the only possession Harry was missing at the moment. The knife Sirius had given him in his fourth year would be handy right about now. It could be used to open any lock but it had been almost totally destroyed in the Department of Mysteries when he had tried to enter a locked room. A room that contained ….. _what_? Harry mused on that room for a few minutes. Could that have been the room that Dumbledore was meaning back in June? Harry screwed up his brow again, trying hard to recall the words….

"_There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most myusterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all."_

Power! What power!

Right at the moment Harry did not feel very powerful at all! He felt weary, he felt confused, he felt alone, so very alone!

But one thing he did not feel was powerful and if he were captured again by Death Eaters then he would end up feeling powerless.

This thought brought him back to the task in hand. One more quick check through his bag ensured he had all his things. He was ready to leave and get as far away from Sam as he could at the first chance.

"Get up here Potter! We're about ready to make berth."

_Potter?_ Sam never called him that, it was always Harry! What was going on? Not willing to show that he suspected that something was wrong – _very wrong! _Harry replied as cheerfully as he could. "Coming right up!"

As he stepped up on to the deck the cool evening air felt refreshing and revitalising to Harry. The northern shore of the river grew closer and closer and he could make out the buildings illuminated by dozens of lights. Their small craft was making its way slowly to a dock marked "… Ship Repairers and Marine Engineer" the name being in darkness, one of the sign's lights was obviously not working.

Harry nimbly jumped ashore holding one of the Griselda's mooring lines in his hand. He made her fast to the bollard on the dockside. Quickly and, he hoped, unobserved by Sam, Harry climbed back on board the Griselda. He picked up his bag and went up on deck. He hoped to be able to leave without Sam noticing but was Sam was right beside him.

"In a hurry, Harry?"

"Well, you know! You've put yourself out so much to help me I just thought you'd be gland to be rid of me!" He tried to grin but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Don't be in such a rush. Let me help you get your bearings. Wait here for me for a minute; I won't be long. Promise me you'll wait?"

Harry didn't speak but just nodded his head. Sam reluctantly walked to the yard's office and entered through the door.

As soon as Sam was out of sight Harry ran.

He didn't hve a clue where he was going but here it was too quiet. The harsh lights cast many velvety black shadows. There were too many opportunities for an attack. Moody's words "constant vigilence!" resonated like a mantra through Harry's brain. He ran towards a road where he could see traffic moving. Lorries and cars would mean people – _muggles – _but perhaps also a chance for a lift.

When he got to the road he slowed his pace and walked westwards – at least he thought it was west – towards London. Soon he found that the road simply wound its way to the heart of the main Tilbury docks themselves. He stopped and watched as a container lorry went past him and drove into a lorry park some 300 yards or so further up the road.

"May that'd be a good place to get a lift up to London!" thought Harry as he crossed the road and headed to the rows and rows of lorries.

Just at the entrance Harry saw a trailer parked at the roadside, the kerbside of which had an opening showing a counter with bottles of ketchup, mustard and brown sauce. Bright light spilled across the pavement to where a couple of grbbly looking patio tables stood surrounded by half-a-dozen odd plastic chairs and one overflowing dustbin.

Harry took in these sights quickly but the smell! It was wonderful and made his stomach rumble. Harry knew it had not been that many hours since he and Sam had last eaten but the smell of friends onions, burgers and sausages was making his mouth water! As he got nearer he could hear happy laughter from some of the men lounging in the chairs, cheerfully drinking steaming hot mugs of tea and munching on their burgers.

Sam had insisted in giving Harry a couple of £5 notes to keep for emergencies and he now debated whether to spend some on food or not. Eventually he decided against and turned mournfully away from the delicious aromas. One of the men had noticed him however.

"Hey kid!" He called. "What're you…..!"

Harry didn't wait to hear any more; he turned and ran. He still didn't feel safe. Grimmauld Place was still a long, long way off and he was determined to get their or, in Oliver Wood's words "die trying!"

The confused lorry driver turned to his companions. "What'd I say?" They just shrugged their shoulders in response.


	14. Out of the frying pan!

**Chapter 14 : Out of the frying pan!**

Once more Harry ran as though his life depended on his ability to evade his pursuers, though at that precise moment there was no one running after him. The Death Eater or whoever it was wearing Sam's face, did not follow Harry from the dockside. Too unwilling to be spotted by muggles perhaps but they certainly seemed unwilling to attract attention to themselves.

His route away from the "greasy spoon" roadside café took him towards the huge lorry park; the entrance was via a barrier and a tired-looking guard was checking papers of incoming vehicles. Harry tried to take advantage of the guard's inattention and slip unobserved into the maze-like rows of heavy goods vehicles; unfortunately the guard was not alone and his companion quickly sounded the alert.

Whistles sounded and alarms rang! Harry did the only logical thing – he panicked!

Running further into the lorry park Harry desperately sought somewhere he could hide until the hue-and-cry died down. Back in Junior School Harry had become accustomed to finding suitable places to hide from his brutish cousin and his gang and once again Harry decided to find a hidey-hole. His slight build and excellent reactions enabled Harry to dive, hopefully unobserved, under one of the huge lorries. Making his way away from the sound of running footsteps Harry thought he was safe – for the moment!

But no – his luck was running out! The unmistakable sound of guard dogs barking brought a fresh wave of panic. Harry stood up and made for the fence at the back of the lorry park but he realised that he was not alone in running from the guards!

About a dozen scruffy bedraggled men in their early twenties were also running and in Harry's direction. Bright searchlights flooded the lorry park. Harry found himself leading the pack of men; he ducked once more under a lorry hoping to hide in the dense shadows but they all copied him. Emerging the other side and still bent double Harry turned intending to run towards the far fence but as he straightened up and started to run….

_WHAM!_

Harry was knocked into the air and he fell in a heap on the tarmac. He rolled onto his back and screamed in agony. His world turned black and Harry knew no more.

………

_It hurt!_

Harry held his breath against the white-hot pain in his side. His eyes still tightly closed shut. He could hear a faint beep, beep sound in the distance but the sound was suddenly drowned out by a siren. Wherever he was he was being rocked about and Harry didn't like it! Every movement caused the pain to get worse. He tried to move his head and couldn't. He was strapped down, immobile. He felt the left sleeve of his sweatshirt pushed up his arm and something tied tight above his elbow. The next thing Harry felt was something cold on his skin followed by a sharp pain on the inside of his left forearm.

Mercifully at that point, consciousness left him completely and Harry returned to darkness.

………

Slowly, very, very slowly Harry opened his eyes. He didn't expect to be able to see anything, as he knew his glasses had flown off his face at the moment of impact but he could see! He could see perfectly.

He looked straight ahead.

He looked straight into a mirror.

He looked into a simple, framed mirror not an ornate, freestanding mirror like the mirror of erised but a pretty ordinary looking mirror. In fact the only extraordinary thing about this mirror was that it was hung by four chains so that it hung its face to the floor, over to a large wooden table.

Bound to that table was….

Harry!

He was bound by stout leather straps round his forehead, throat, each wrist and each ankle. The worst one, however, was the strap around his chest. With each breath out it grew tighter and tighter until Harry could hardly draw breath at all.

Consequently the only thing that Harry could see was his own reflection.

The sight brought tears unbidden to his eyes.

His left sleeve had been cut away and there on the inside of his forearm, clear for all the world to see was….

THE DARK MARK!

………….

Harry's thoughts were in turmoil. The wizarding world already thought him a murderer and now everyone would believe he'd joined Voldemort.

He'd be better off dead.

Once before, in the Department of Mysteries, he'd hoped for death as a way out. Once again he wished for death's releast from his sea of troubles.

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face.

A voice spoke aloud.

"_You can't give up Harry! You're stronger than that!"_

"Who's there?" Harry asked the disembodied voice. "Who are you? Show yourself!"

"_Ssshh! Quiet or they'll be back!" the voice entreatied._

"Where am I?" Harry asked but in a much quieter tone.

"_Where do you think you are?"_

"I…. I don't know!"

"_What's the last thing you remember?"_

"Is this a new Death Eater interrogation technique? Ask questions but don't show your face?"

"_What makes you think I have a face?"_

This question completely stumped Harry. Mr. Weasley's words came to mind "Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brains."

"_Pardon?" questioned the voice._

Harry hadn't realised that he had spoken out loud. "That's what my friend's Dad told me once."

"_Very good advice it is too. I'd heed his words if I were you."_

Harry stayed silent as he thought hard.

"_Have you worked out who I am yet?"_

At Harry's continued silence, the voice prompted.

_In darkness I show nothing_

_To the puzzled I show everything_

_To the vain I show what's perfect_

_To the realist I show each defect_

_At dawn I show a new day_

_To a seeker I show the way_

_What am I?_

Once again Harry thought "I wish Hermione was here, she's the one that good at puzzles! But then again I worked out the Sphinx's puzzle during the Triwizard Tournament." Out loud he said "May I hear the rhyme again please?"

After a second time of hearing Harry exclaimed "Got it! You're a mirror! But how….?"

"Have you never spoken to a mirror before Harry?"

"Well yes but I don't usually get much back in the way of conversation or sense. Usually mirrors just yell at me to comb my hair or tuck my shirt in."

"Perhaps you should try harder to talk to them and listen to what they can say."

"Well I'm listening now." Said Harry "Not that I have much choice do I.?"

"_That's not very friendly!"_

"Sorry, but I'm not feeling too friendly, or comfortable at the moment and you still haven't told me where I am."

"_You are where you were."_

"And that is where exactly?"

"_That depends on where you are at!"_

The frustration at not understanding the mirror's words and his continued discomfort lying on this hard table made him struggle and squirm against his restraings. He closed his eyes.

…………

Voices were coming as though from far away.

"We're losing him!" said the first female voice.

"Like hell we are!" came a second deeper male voice.

Harry had kept his eyes closed but now one eyelid after the other was forced open and a bright light shone straight in. He flinched and tried to turn his head away from the light and the pain. The torchlight was extinguished.

"Both pupils are equal and responsive." Came the first female voice again. "BP is 150 over 90. Heart rate 45."

Harry continued to struggle against the restraints. He had a blinding headache and a sharp pain at the back of his skull. He released his hands and laid them at his side. He could feel a padded surface beneath them but no sheet.

"Not the hospital wing then!" his confused mind decided. He slowly opened his eyes and saw a very blurry face smiling down at him.

The air smelled funny and Harry realised he was wearing an oxygen mask.

"Thought we were going to lose you there for a minute but I reckon you'll pull through now."

"Harry, don't waste your breath." At these words Harry took a sharp and painful breath in but the voice continued the words confusing Harry even more. "The chance is that he can't understand a word of English. None of the others could!"

"He may not understand the words but he may be able to understand the emotion and inflection behind them and know we mean him no harm." The voice continued in a calm and soothing tone.

"See, already he seems calmer. We only want to help you!" He was looking straight into Harry's eyes now and speaking clearly, enunciating each syllable as though he were simple or foreign.

"All your friends are OK. They only had a few scratches and bruises and will be fine once they get a square meal inside them."

Harry was even more puzzled at this. His friends? His friends were miles away, weren't they?

The other Harry, Harry 2?, went on soothingly. "The other men you were with? In the dockyard? The police have arrested them but they are all unharmed!"

"Don't waste your breath Harry. He obviously doesn't speak English.."

"Didn't the police get an interpreter?" asked Harry 2.

"One's supposed to be on their way, should be at A&E when we get there."

"OK. Anyway, we'll need plain chest films on arrival, CT chest and abdo as soon as possible, and bloods pronto."

The bumpy and noisy journey continued and Harry felt more pain as he was removed from the ambulance into the bright A&E department of the large local general hospital. The bright overhead fluorescent lights caused Harry to shut his eyes tight once more and to try and concentrate on the sounds around him. He found himself drifting in and out of consciousness.

He vaguely recalled being pushed on a trolley into a dimly lit room and experienced more sharp pain as x-ray films were taken. Then on to the CT exam. He didn't recall much after that until he heard Harry 2's voice calling "Have the blood esults come back yet?"

"Not yet"

Harry felt cold hands on his abdomen and ribs. He had a sudden urge to cough and the pain was excruciating. He could taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth and felt sick. Each intake of breath made the pain worse, much worse.

"His left lung has collapsed. We'll need to get a chest drain in. Once that's done he'll breath easier."

The darkness claimed Harry once more.


	15. A time to breathe?

Thank you, thank you, thank you. One hundred thank yous to be precise! To celebrate my 100th review I've decided to put my regular readers out of their misery early. Watch out though. You've not seen the last of the evil cliffe!!!!

**Chapter 15 : A time to breathe?**

"_Not again!" _Thought Harry as he slowly returned to consciousness. He could feel smooth crisp bed sheets beneath the palms of his hands. _"Not the hospital wing again!"_

As he pried his sticky eyelids apart, and breathed in unfamiliar scents, he quickly realised he was right, it was not the hospital wing.

But where was he?

Focussing on his environment Harry could hear a steady _Beep! Beep! Beep!_ He'd heard that sound before and recently too. The beeping got faster. Harry turned his head and saw a blurred figure sitting in a chair by his head. He was relieved that he could turn his head and reduce the pain in his skull.

He was in a fairly small room. Overhead was a bright fluorescent strip light which cast its bland even light over the whole room. At his movement, the figure in the chair put down what they'd been reading and stood up moving away from the bed and standing stiffly against the wall.

Two other figures had entered the room.

"When did he open his eyes?" asked the first voice as she, for undoubtedly the voice was that of a woman, shone that horribly bright light in his eyes. There was a moment of discomfort before it was extinguished.

"Only a couple of minutes before you came in." replied a softer and more melodious female voice from the corner.

"Bleep Dr. McGregor on 6078." The first woman was obviously accustomed to giving a command and getting instant obedience for at her word the third silent figure left the room returning less than a minute later.

"He's on his way."

"Has he said anything?" Enquired the first woman once more. At first Harry thought she meant the doctor but the reply she received indicated that she wanted to know if the patient had spoken.

"No. But he doesn't speak English, does he?" Came the puzzling reply.

"We don't know. We don't think so, none of the others did." Harry tried to keep his expression blank but his mind was whirling.

_What was going on? _

_Why did they think he wasn't English?_

"How's our mystery man doing?" Harry recognised this voice! It was the other Harry, the Doctor that he vaguely recalled from earlier.

Harry smiled down at Harry and said, "I'm glad you're back with us. It's been touch-and-go but we think you're out of the woods now."

Harry 2 turned to the senior nurse. "Keep him on 15 minute observations. Let's have a look at the CT reports. Two broken ribs, no free fluid in the abdomen, good. Leave the chest drain in for now. I'll check on him again before he goes to the ward. Is there a bed for him yet?"

"Yes Doctor. We've just been told that there's a side-room ready on Edith Cavell Ward. Waiting for the porters to move him once you give the OK."

"Yes he should be fine now. See if you can get an interpreter for him. Try the Language Line people, they should be able to help."

"The others were from Krakhosia, perhaps one of them could help translate?"

Harry 2 turned to the speaker. It had been the woman who had been sitting in the chair when Harry had awoken. "Well with excellent suggestions like that you'll make sergeant in no time!"

Harry could almost hear the smile in his voice.

"In the situation it's the only logical thing to do." Snapped the voice, irritation now obvious in her tone.

"Forgive me, I wasn't trying to be patronising." The doctor was obviously aware he'd put his foot in it and tried to make amends. "You're quite right of course but tell me, would you be able to make the necessary arrangements?"

"Sorry. I just …!" But she changed tack stating instead "I'll get on to the Duty Sergeant. He should know where the others have been taken and whether any of them speak English. I'll be right back." With that she left the room along with the other two women leaving the two Harrys alone.

The doctor lifted up the casenotes and started making notes; as he did he started talking to Harry, it was obvious that he didn't believe he was being understood.

"Way to go Harry! Every time you meet someone you fancy you open your big mouth and straight away plant both your size 10's straight inside! Why? Why did you have to come out with some cross smart-mouth remark instead of simply paying a compliment? Bet she won't even give you the time of day now!"

Before the Doctor could continue berating himself and before Harry gave away his understanding and sympathy with the sentiment being so accurately expressed the door opened and a porter entered.

"Transfer to Edith Cavell?" queried the porter.

The next few minutes were taken up with the painful transfer of Harry from the Accident and Emergency department of the hospital to a ward.

His new room was much smaller that the resuscitation room in A&E. In one corner was a washbasin with a mirror over it and dispensers for liquid soap. There were sun-bleached curtains at the window. The only other items in the room were an armchair at the side of the bed, a wheeled locker for personal effects and an over-bed table. On the wall was, to Harry's surprise, a TV on a wall-bracket.

Four nurses entered the room to help transfer Harry to the bed. By the time he was fully settled he was exhausted and fell into a fitful sleep.

--- zzz ---

Once again Harry felt crisp bed sheets beneath his fingers but the smells this time were the familiar ones from school.

"_I am so fed up with this!"_ Harry said aloud, not expecting any response.

"Oh thanks!"

Harry sat up and stared ahead of him and at the same moment his mouth dropped open in shock!

"GINNY! Oh, thank God!" He then did something that took both of them by surprise.

He shot off the bed, grabbed a hold of Ginny and kissed her. Not a quick peck but a passionate kiss that seemed to last for eternity!

A small noise from the back of Ginny's throat made Harry's eyes open-wide and he instantly released her and moved away from her arms.

"Sorry! I… I don't know…!"

"Harry James Potter if you _­dare_ apologise for that kiss I'll hex you into the middle of next week!" Her words were challenging and she strongly reminded Harry of her mother once more, especially when moment later her ire dissolved into a beautiful smile!"

Harry leaned back against the hospital wing bed. Ginny took two steps towards him and brought one hand up to gently cup his cheek.

"What's happened? Night after night I've slept and no sign of you. I even went to bed for a couple of hours in the middle of the afternoon but I was so worried I couldn't sleep anyway. All that happened was I worried the life out of Mum and she wanted to call Madam Pomfrey!"

At these words Harry reached out and took hold of Ginny's hand then turned his head and kissed her palm. "Are you OK Harry?" questioned Ginny.

Concern was evident in her voice. "Tell me what's been going on?"

Harry sat himself up on the bed his legs dangling off the side. Ginny moved so she was beside him. Harry took hold of her hand and clasped it in his, holding on to it as though it was his lifeline and he a drowning man.

Truthfully he had rarely felt so isolated and these moments with Ginny were like islands of tranquillity in a storm-tossed sea of worries.

Harry started off with waking up to the sound of his watch's alarm and going up on deck and seeing a rat with a silver paw.

"Wormtail!" Ginny almost spat out the detested name.

"That's what I reckon. There can't be two rats with silver paws can there and I think he put the Imperius curse on Sam 'cos from then on Sam was acting funny and not like he had been. I think he'd been told to get me to Tilbury and by then the Death Eaters would be ready to capture me again."

"Maybe!" Ginny said.

"May be? What else can explain it?" Harry got stood up and paced back and forth between the beds.

"Well, it is possible but it doesn't fit with all the facts!" countered Ginny.

Harry raised his hands in exasperation. "Now you sound like Hermione!"

"Well I'll just have to take that as a compliment. But listen…" Ginny then went on to outline her alternative theory.

In her opinion it wasn't Sam under Imperius that sailed with Harry from Ramsgate to Tilbury but a Death Eater under polyjuice. Her reasoning was that the real Sam would have known the towns and sights on the route, he'd travelled to Tilbury by sea before and the "Sam" that travelled with Harry obviously hadn't and a "pure blood" Death Eater would consider a muggle pleasure pier to be of no interest and not know it's name.

"Even I know Southend Pier, we covered it in Muggle Studies but I can't for one minute imagine Death Eaters knowing about it."

Ginny continued her theory saying "Another thing – didn't you say Sam got very evasive when you asked for his home address to keep in touch?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Harry "If he were really a Death Eater he wouldn't know Sam's address! God, I've been such an idiot. Why didn't I see it before?" Harry momentary joy, at realising that the real Sam would have wanted to keep in touch and would have gladly shared his address with Harry was immediately destroyed by the horrid realisation that the real Sam could now be held prisoner. Or, worse, he could be dead. Another death that he, Harry, was responsible for.

Past experience told Ginny exactly where Harry was going with this train of thought and she could read his face like a book.

"Now just you hold on a minute Harry! Don't you go jumping to conclusions or blaming yourself for something that may not have even happened."

"Oh yeah? How do you work that out then? Have you ever heard of anyone being held prisoner by Death Eaters just being released unharmed and sent on their way? They're Death Eaters Ginny! Killing, destroying and torturing is what they do best! They enjoy it! They won't let Sam go and just pat him on the head and say, "Please don't tell on us!" They'll silence him permanently! It's the only way for them!"

Harry had worked himself up into a full-blown panic. He could feel sweat trickling down his face and his breathing was getting harder.

Ginny stood up and stepped toward him, her hands outstretched as his pain increased and he fell to his knees.

_Light!_

_White light!_

_Blindingly bright white light!_

_Voices - one male, soft and mellow, one female soft and lilting._

_One sentiment, spoken with love. "Not yet Harry! Now's not your time. You still have so much to do! We'll be waiting when it's your time. We love you Harry. Don't forget son, we love you."_

The light disappeared into darkness. Harry felt a tightness in his chest and a hellish pain in his chest. It was worse that the Cruciatus curse and that was saying something.

More voices. Sharp, efficient, forceful. Words were spoken. "Should be OK now. Keep to 15 minute obs. Get a new set of bloods to the lab. Bleep me if you need to."

Other voices, unknown to Harry: "Have you ever seen eyes as green as these?"

"You're supposed to be checking their re-activity not admiring their colour."

"Yes, but still! And did you notice that scar? That's not recent! But it looks so bright and angry."

"Well where he comes from I don't suppose they have an NHS. Wounds are harder to heal without proper care."

"Are you sure he's an illegal immigrant?"

"Nurse Atkins, your job is to care for your patients without consideration of their social, ethical or political background."

"Sorry, Sister."

"You can let that WPC back in now and then you can have your break."

The junior nurse had a puzzled look still on her face. "Nurse! Call the Policewoman back in. Oh, do wake up girl!"

"Yes Sister. Sorry Sister."

Harry was aware of a door opening and one figure leaving and another entering. The Sister updated the WPC with Harry's condition. "He's stable again. You did well to alert us as quickly as you did. He had an allergic reaction to his analgesia and could have died if he hadn't received prompt attention. I intend to notify your superiors. You undoubtedly saved his life!"

"I only did what was logical but thank you for those kind words."

"Not at all." The Sister acknowledged as she left the room followed by the Student Nurse.

The WPC walked up to stand at Harry's bedside. "Who are you? Why are you so familiar? I feel that I should know your name but it just won't come…!"

She sat down on the armchair in the corner of the room and picked up from the floor the magazine she had been reading. She silently turned the pages. Harry drifted off back to sleep but this time it was a dreamless – _and Ginnyless_ – sleep.

--- ooo ---

When next he woke Harry felt more normal than he had felt in days. True he still had pain in his ribs but now he felt that he could breathe relatively pain free. Was that the drugs or had he been healed while he slept? "_Oh, wait!_" Thought Harry, _"This is muggle medicine we're talking about. No quick healing with a boneset potion and a wand here. No, it's drugs, surgery and long stays in bed!"_

Looking around Harry noted a bottle suspended from a mobile stand with a long tube leading down to a needle in his left arm. As he moved his right leg he felt another tube and he realised with a shock that he had been "catheterised" he thought the word was. No wonder he didn't feel the need to pass water.

His movements attracted the notice of the Policeman sitting at his bedside.

"You're awake are you?" He said unnecessarily. After all Harry had his eyes open and he was looking him in the eye. The Policeman poked his head out the door of the hospital room. "Boy-oh just woke up. That Dr. McGregor said I had to tell you when he opened his eyes."


	16. Unknown No More

**Chapter 16 : Unknown No More**

Harry's recovery from his injuries was slow but steady. He quickly fell into the hospital's routine and in all the time he was awake not one word did he utter!

Three days later, some five days after his accident, the young WPC was back at his bedside. She had taken to bringing a book with her which she would sit and read in companionable silence. Harry was now allowed to sit, propped up in bed. He had to have pain relief still but the catheters had been removed and he was able to feed himself.

The silence and the air of tranquillity were like the calm before a storm. Harry took this time to try and plan his next move. Mentally he made a list of things he had to do.

1:Recover omnioculars

What had happened to them when he had his accident? Did the police have them? How could he get them back? Is the recording from Malfoy Manor OK or has it been damaged/wiped?

2:Get to Grimmauld Place

How was he to get away from the hospital? How long would it be before he was well enough to travel? Would the Order welcome him or condemn him?

3:Recover his wand

Recover his wand or would he have to obtain a replacement?

Number 3 really was a double-barrelled question. He was very attached to his old wand, it had served him well and he missed it greatly. On the other hand if he could obtain another wand, a different wand, one that was not a brother wand to Voldemort's, would that make it easier or harder to defeat Voldemort? This question was unanswerable and Harry spent many hours staring up at the cracked ceiling of his room pondering that very question.

4:Prove his innocence

This last task was another that demanded much thought and consideration. Harry chafed at being so dependent and vulnerable. East new face sent him into a blind panic. He suspected everyone of being a Death Eater and only when the WPC, his WPC, was on duty did Harry feel safe enough to sleep unaided by drugs.

The WPC, Harry had heard her referred to as WPC Jenny Hazelwood, reminded him of his Ginny.

"_His Ginny!"_ Harry silently berated himself for his unconscious possessiveness. Ginny belonged to no one but herself. She had become much stronger, self-possessed and assertive in the last couple of years and Harry found these qualities to be very attractive. He like – _no, loved – _her feisty and determined nature. She didn't take any nonsense from him and certainly didn't hold him in awe, as did the Creevey brothers.

No. His Ginny knew him too well. She knew him, warts and all, and still she seemed to like him. But, he questioned, was _liking_ him enough any longer? His feelings for her had changed, deepened but what of her feelings for him?

Yet another unanswerable question.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted when the door of his room opened.

"Jenny, you're wanted on the phone." The voiced belonged to one of Harry's regular nurses. "I'll keep an eye on him for you." She added as she stepped into the room. Harry turned his gaze to the window. The view was so boring; all he could see was more windows of more wards, that he quickly turned away.

The door opened again and Jenny returned. "Thanks!" Said Jenny as she resumed her seat. The nurse did not try and make small talk she left quickly to resume her duties amid more interesting and chatty patients.

Harry turned to look at Jenny and found that she was staring him right back. He felt as though she were looking into his soul. He maintained eye contact with her. "Who are you really? You look as though you've been through so much and I don't just mean the accident. Before that. What happened?"

Harry was dumbfounded. He heard the questions clearly but _… not once had Jenny's mouth opened!_

He broke eye contact by immediately closing his own eyes. His thoughts were in a whir. _What was going on?_

Jenny bent to pick up her book. Harry caught a glimpse of it's title "The Art and Science of Body Reading". It sounded, mused Harry, as though it should be a part of his Divination lessons' approved textbooks. He could just imagine Trelawney encouraging the class to read each other's bodies. Ron's voice came to mind "Lavender can I see Uranus!" Oh yes, he can just imaging what those lessons would be like. A small secretive smile crossed Harry's face. The first he'd worn in days. His mind went back to the fun he and Ron had when making up dire predictions for their homework.

"_Penny for them."_

"Just thanking about Divination. Remember when old Trelawney…!" Harry suddenly shut up.

"_I knew it! _You're no more an illegal immigrant than I am!"

Harry slammed his fists down hard on his mattress in temper as he turned his gaze away from Ginny – _correction Jenny!_

The WPC moved round the bed back into Harry's field of vision.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"You've already asked that question!"

"No I haven't!"

"You have, you just haven't asked it out loud!"

Jenny's mouth dropped open. She looked like a fish out of water. "I know I _thought_ it but …" She left the question unfinished. Instead she asked, "_What are you?"_

"Ah. The 64-thousand-dollar question!"

Harry turned and looked deep into Jenny's eyes. "What do you think I am?"

Her reply surprised Harry.

"Scared. Lonely. Confused. Worried. Do you need me to go on? Or will that do for starters?"

"Try TIRED, or… even better … WANTED!"

"_Wanted?_" Jenny screwed up her face in concentration. She suddenly looked like Ginny. He'd seen that expression on her face when she was trying hard to beat Ron at chess. Her features relaxed as she let out the breath she had sub-consciously been holding.

"_Of course! Surrey. Little Whinging. I knew it!"_

"You'll make Sergeant yet." Harry paraphrased Dr. McGregor's comment.

"Don't you start!" she said in a warning tone.

"You do know, don't you, that Dr. McGregor fancies you like mad but feels he's blown any chance he had with you?"

"And since when do teenage boys understand so much?" Questioned Jenny standing with her hands on her hips.

"Since complete strangers talk out loud in front of patients who they believe don't speak a word of English."

"Touché." Said Jenny with a smile on her face.

"English I understand… French I don't!" Countered Harry.

"Very funny!" Replied Jenny playfully swatting Harry on the arm.

Suddenly the mood changed. Both of them became nervous. "Did you really…? You know!"

He wasn't going to make this easy for her. "Did I what?"

"You know! Murder your Aunt and Uncle."

Once more they were staring deep into each other's eyes.

"What do you think?"

"My job is to _know._ I need to know, to be able to prove …"

"Ah! That's the problem. Proof."

"What are you saying? Are you trying to tell me you _did_ murder them?"

"NO! But I'll never be able to prove my innocence."

Suddenly it was important - _vitally important_ – that this young woman believe in him. Believe in his innocence.

The emotional drain suddenly left Harry feeling very weak and tired. His scar was prickling badly. Harry automatically reached up to rub the palms of his hands over the puckered skin.

"What's up?" asked Jenny.

"Just my scar! It gives me grief sometimes." Harry closed his eyes. Instantly mad, crazy laughter started up. As had happened once before, the laughter was coming from Harry's own mouth.

_SLAP!_ Jenny had stood up and slapped Harry hard across the cheek. It stung!

"Ow! What'd you do that for?" The annoyance in his voice was obvious.

"You were hysterical!"

"No I wasn't" Argued Harry.

"Oh, yeah? Then what was all the mad laughter for? Am I am so amusing?"

Jenny was standing confrontationally with her hands on her hips and a glare in her eye - she looked to Harry very much like Ginny at that moment.

"Not you. No sorry… it was…" Harry was at a loss to explain. He had just had a burst of elation from Voldemort. Harry's location and condition had been confirmed and Voldemort gleefully announced to Harry via their link that "Once again what you have I will take away. This time it will be your freedom."

Harry's injuries still needed a lot of healing but they didn't stop him throwing back his covers to try and rise from his bed. His ribs hurt horribly, two were broken and one had punctured his lung and his right arm was bandaged from wrist to elbow, he's sustained a bad gash, which had required stitching.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Harry stayed silent.

"Goddamn it! Talk to me!"

"I can't! At least not about this. You won't believe me and if I told you I'd be breaking the law."

"_Breaking the law to tell the truth?_ You almost sound as though you're a spy or on a Witness Protection Programme. _Get real! __I want the truth and I want it now!"_

"FINE!" Bellowed Harry. "Have it your own way. I'm as good as dead when he finds me, so what if I get in more bother with the Ministry for telling a Muggle!"

"Telling a Muggle! Did you say Muggle?" queried Jenny.

Harry had given up trying to leave. He'd realised that he was not going to last long with the amount of pain he was still in. He lay back on his bed; Jenny pulled the covers back over him and sat on the edge of the mattress.

"It's a long story and if wasn't for the fact that it's all true and happened to me, I sure as hell wouldn't believe it."

Jenny tenderly placed a hand on Harry's good arm and said "Before you tell me anything, I think it would be better if I went off-duty. Otherwise I might have to report anything you tell me to my Duty Sergeant."

Harry looked puzzled.

"Also, I promised my Grandmother that I'd bring her to visit a friend who's sick in hospital tonight. She is not a lady who accepts excuses for breaking promises – one very formidable old gal she is. You never know I might just introduce you. You and I can talk then, OK?"

"OK." Harry acknowledged wearing. Sleep was beckoning him. He burrowed beneath his covers as Jenny's replacement, a young male PC, arrived to take her place.

It was another Ginny-less sleep that Harry had that afternoon. He awoke to the sound of the meal trolley being bumped and banged through the doors onto the ward. Each day a card with the following day's menus was left in Harry's room; each day patients were supposed to mark their preferred choices but as Harry had to keep up his pretence of not being able to speak or to understand English, he had to ignore. Consequently the card was filled in by either the nursing staff or the duty PC in his room.

Jenny had observed which meals Harry ate and which he did not and used that as a guide of what to choose for him – that was before he was 'caught out'! Now of course, he could tell her and would hopefully get was he'd genuinely prefer.

The food wasn't a patch on Hogwarts fair or Mrs. Weasleys but it was an improvement on the short-rations sometimes supplied by the Dursleys. Long ago Harry had learned to just 'eat up and be thankful' as Uncle Vernon would say.

It did seem odd to Harry though that the day's main meal was at midday with just a sandwich at night. Oh! What he wouldn't give for some of Mrs. Weasleys steak and kidney pie with all the trimmings, followed by his favourite treacle tart! All washed down by a warming mug of hot Butterbeer!

Harry's reflective mood continued as he unwillingly conjured images of meals in prison! Muggle food in Muggle jails would be much like this he guessed but in Azkaban…?

Harry recalled how thin and starved Sirius had looked when first he clapped eyes on him in the shrieking shack. Being already on the thin side, Harry wouldn't last, he reckoned, on the kind of diet Azkaban would provide.

It was in this dark frame of mind that Harry sat staring out of his window when the door to his room opened and a very different Jenny entered. She spoke to the Duty PC.

"Evening Simon, how's the silent watch going? Is our guy as chatty as usual?"

"Not a word still. I'm beginning to wonder if he's mute or something. Not even a sign of his speaking in his native lingo, let along English." Said Simon, without a backwards glance at Harry.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes he has such a blank look about him I sweat the lift doesn't go to the top floor – if you know what I mean!"

"You could be right there. Anyway, what're you doing here? I thought your shift ended at 2?"

"It did but I'm back here with my Gran. Her next-door-neighbour is in this ward so I brought her to visit. Tell you what, while I'm here I can give you a break to grab a bite to eat if you like. The restaurant's open still for a decent – well sort-of decent – hot meal. It's better than the sandwiches you end up with on the late shift anyhow."

"I don't know! You know there'd be hell to pay if something happened and it was found I wasn't at my post."

"Give over!" exclaimed Jenny. "It's not like I'm a nurse or a civvie? Please? You'll do me a favour. I can turn over the TV and catch 'EastEnders' I was going to miss it otherwise. He (she indicated Harry with a nod of her head) won't care as he can't understand a word of it."

"OK." Said Simon. "I'll be back at 8 o'clock."

"Thanks." Said Jenny sitting and picking up the TV remote control. The EastEnders theme played as the door closed behind Simon. Jenny made sure Simon had left the ward then shot out of the door. A moment later she returned with an elderly but very sprightly lady with her.

"Harry, meet my Gran."

The lady had a commanding presence and, as she stepped to Harry's bedside she held out her hand palm down. Harry didn't know whether to shake it or kiss it! He felt like he was meeting royalty!

When she spoke it was in a clear, precise and accentless voice.

"Eleanor Cantwell, Mr. Potter. I am so pleased to meet you at last!"


	17. Puzzle Set

**Chapter 17 : Puzzle Set**

Harry had taken hold of the outstretched hand to shake it in greeting but found that the elderly woman was now holding his hand in both of hers, at the same time she was staring Harry in the face with a look that made him feel as though she had x-ray eyes.

He had never felt so exposed! Even Snape with his Occlumency lessons last year did not make Harry feel this transparent. It was unnerving and reminded Harry of Dumbledore and his penetrating looks.

Some of Harry's worries must have shown themselves somehow to the woman holding his hand so firmly for she said: "Don't look so worried dear boy. I've known for many years that we would one-day meet but I must admit I never foresaw this…" her gesture indicated the room at large "setting."

Eleanor moved to occupy the only armchair in the room. "Tell me, have the Healers worked their magic yet or not?"

Still Harry remained silent but he chanced a nervous glance over at Jenny who was standing by the door trying hard not to giggle.

"Oh, Harry! If only you could see your face!"

Harry shut his mouth, he didn't recall opening it, then asked: "Healers? Magic?"

"Come, come dear boy! There's no need to pretend with me or with Jenny. She put two and two together when you mentioned Muggles earlier."

"Yeah, but it took me long enough!" Berated Jenny. "I can't believe I didn't realise that the 'Harry Potter' on the wanted sheets was 'THE' Harry Potter! But I suspect the Ministry of Magic were hoping that anyone – magic or muggle – would believe the pack of lies they've put out.

Harry was heartened by these words but still reluctant to trust too much. That was until Eleanor Cantwell turned back the collar of her coat to show a tiny red and gold phoenix pinned there. The phoenix's eyes opened and shut as though blinking at the light and its plumage shimmered as though made of real flames. It was beautiful! As Harry looked at the brooch the phoenix opened its minute beak and Harry heard phoenix-song in his head.

"Now Harry, we don't have much time!" Eleanor commanded. "Tell me how you come to be here."

Immediately and without hesitation Harry recounted the events of the past few weeks – was that all it was – it seemed so much longer!

While he was telling his tale Harry was trying to work out why Jenny's grandmother seemed so familiar.

He was also trying to work out why he felt so willing to tell so much to this woman whom he had known for so little time.

Something of these thoughts must have shown on Harry's face for when he'd finished his recitation Eleanor sat back and said "Jenny dear, do you think you could rustle up a couple of cups of that disgusting concoction that the hospital calls tea. I imagine Harry here is quite parched after all that talking."

When Jenny stepped out of the room Eleanor moved closer to Harry. She whispered almost in his ear. "I have a message for you from a certain red-head who, I am led to believe, you have a certain "connection" to.

Harry looked into startling blue eyes in puzzlement. "Excuse me?" he queried.

"Don't worry Harry, Ginny only confided in Dumbledore that she was talking to you in your shared dreams – she wouldn't have done that if Molly and Arthur hadn't told her that they'd be talking like that since their courting days. Ginny didn't know, as it is an extremely private experience and one that is not usually spoken of with others.

"Why did Dumbledore tell you then?" asked Harry.

"He told me of the connection not of the contents. What you and Ginny share is – _and should remain _– totally private. I noticed you have not told Jenny anything of them."

"Course note!" responded Harry.

"You see? It is instinctively private! No couple talk of what occurs behind bedroom doors and somniloquent dreams are the same. Many couples share their deepest dreams, fantasies and desires in such a way. It is a very strong bond of friendship, desire, trust and …" Harry blush would have rivalled any that Ron could have produced at that moment "… love!"

Harry was staring down at his fingers that were busily pulling at a loose thread at the end of his bed sheet; he could feel the intense head in his face and was sure he was glowing.

"Don't worry Harry. I'm sure Ginny feels the same." Assured Eleanor.

"I didn't know what to make of these dreams. I hoped they were real but I couldn't see how that was possible. Last year Ginny was going out with that Michael Corner and then on the train home she said she'd chosen Dean Thomas not me! Hermione said Ginny had given up on me months ago. Why now this?"

"Harry, oh Harry! Our heads don't choose for us our hearts do! When I was a child I always imagined I would marry someone who was tall, blond, smart, witty and with a full beard and moustache."

Harry's mouth had formed a smile, almost a laugh at these last words. This formidable-looking woman was telling him of her childhood fantasy and it was very hard to imagine. "Don't laugh!" She said almost playfully slapping Harry on the wrist. "I too had my dreams and fantasies. I wasn't always an old dragon."

"Sorry!" said Harry almost sheepishly "but why are you telling me this?"

"Well the thing was I knew no-one even remotely like that. When I was at Hogwarts I dated a few different boys but although they were nice, none was right. I'd been away from school for about four years when I first met Orell." Harry didn't know where this story was leading but he was mesmerised by her storytelling and listened in silence.

"Life was so hard then, the whole of the world was at war. The Second World War the Muggles called it but we wizards knew it as The Grindelwald Years. Dark, dangerous times Harry. I was working in Holland and at the end of a long and exhausting day I went into a small wizarding pub in a town called Hoofdorp. I'll never forget it. The door opened and in walked Orell."

"Don't tell me, tall, blond and bearded?" questioned Harry.

"Yes. My dreams had shown me my ideal partner long before we had met. He'd been seeing me for months in his dreams and we knew the moment we met that we were meant for each other."

"Love at first sight!" Jenny was standing holding two cups of tea. "Oh, Gran. What a lovely story! I never heard you talk about Grandad like that before!"

Now it was Eleanor's turn to look embarrassed. She blanched.

Jenny sat on the end of Harry's bed. "We had better watch the time as Simon will be back soon."

Eleanor and Harry drank their tea, agreeing without words to mention nothing about the somniloquency to Jenny.

"I was just talking to the SHO…" At their looks of confusion, Jenny explained. "The Senior House Officer - the Doctor in charge of Harry's care? Well he says that with the remarkable progress you've made so far it will only be another four or five days before you'll be fit for discharge."

"What then? Asked Harry.

"Well at that time you'll be transferred under Police escort to the hospital wing of the local remand centre after being formally charged as an illegal immigrant. There you'll wait until further investigation is completed. Then deportation back to wherever they think you're from."

"Great! Just great!" Harry's good mood had evaporated. He threw his head back and stared at the cracked plaster of his ceiling. He was desperately trying to prevent the tears from showing.

"Don't worry Harry." Said Eleanor.

"Don't worry? If I prove to the Police that I'm English they'll just arrest me for murder. If I don't they'll chuck me out of the country! Heads I lose – tails I don't win. How can I _not_ worry?"

Harry's temper had flared so suddenly it caught him off balance.

"Shhhh!" Came Jenny's urgent plea. "If the staff hear your voice they'll know we can communicate!"

"Don't be silly girl. I cast a silencing charm on the room as soon as I came in." reassured Eleanor.

"Oh! Of course. Sorry!" Now it was Jenny's turn to look embarrassed.

Harry looked again at Jenny. He estimated her age to be about that of Bill Weasley. "Jenny, did you go to Hogwarts?"

"No. I had hoped to but I couldn't."

"Oh, sorry." He presumed Jenny – like Sam's parents and Sam himself – was a Squibb. It was Eleanor who voiced the unspoken question.

"Jenny isn't a Squibb Harry. She was born to Magical parents. My daughter was a very powerful witch, as was her husband. Sadly Voldemort murdered them both when Jenny was only 5 years old. She witnessed it all and went into shock. She didn't speak at all for almost three years and when she did eventually recover her voice it was found she'd buried her magic so deep within her that she could no longer summon it to her."

"It's OK though Harry. I can talk about it quite easily, in fact it was you who brought me out of my shell."

Once again Harry didn't have any idea what Jenny meant but it was Eleanor who explained.

"You see Harry when you did whatever you did to Voldemort as a baby it brought joy to my family in more ways than one. That monster was gone and my angel was back. She'd spoken for the first time in three years – three long and worrying years. But her magic has yet to return. We don't give up hope that it might one day return but it was impossible for her to go to Hogwarts."

Jenny picked up her story "My parents though Harry had been Aurors so when I was old enough I joined the Police. Not the same I know but I felt that injustice has to be fought no matter where it is found."

"Damn!" Eleanor said suddenly. "That Policeman's just entered the ward! Quick, turn the TV off!"

Harry lay down and pretended to be asleep. Eleanor removed the silencing charm with a quick _Finite_ just as Simon opened the door.

"… sneaking off to watch TV. Really! Are you so obsessed with that rubbish that you couldn't even miss one episode?" Said Eleanor as a quick alibi.

"Gran, I thought you'd appreciate being given privacy while you talked to your friend and I thought Simon'd like a chance for a proper break. You have no idea how boring it is sitting here for hours and not being given a chance to even stretch your legs! I thought you'd be pleased I thought of other's needs before my own!" said Jenny with an air of indignation.

"Humph! Thanking of other people's needs! Rubbish!" Eleanor left the room, the perfect picture of an irascible old lady but only Harry saw her give a quick wink as she swept imperiously past him.

Jenny threw up her hands dramatically "I just can't win with her! Sorry Simon." She added apologetically.

"Don't worry, my own Nan's just as bad. Thanks for the break Jenny. I got a bite to eat OK. The chilli con carne's not bad at all. You should try it."

"Not really my cup of tea, Simon, I prefer Chinese food to Mexican."

"Well perhaps we could try that new restaurant that's opened in the leisure park, next to the multiplex? It's supposed to be really good." Simon added hopefully.

"Nice try sunshine, but I already told you I'm not interested." Jenny's brush off was pretty blunt.

Jenny looked away from Simon and looked straight at Doctor Harry who was standing in the doorway. She couldn't help but smile at him.

"I'm glad you're here. Can I have a quick word?" Asked Doctor Harry.

"Sure." She smiled, then over here shoulder she added "'Night Simon." As she walked out of the room.

"Women!" Simon said, lowering himself into the chair. "What is it with her anyway?" Simon asked the question knowing full-well he would get no answer to the question men had been asking time out of mind.

---o-O-o---

Harry did not see Jenny again for two whole days; instead he had been guarded by a series of different Policeman, not including Simon. He presumed this constant change was either a conscious decision by the Officers in charge of his case or just a co-incidence. Either way, Harry found himself longing for Jenny's return. It took a lot of control on Harry's part _not _to react when, on the third day at the 2pm shift change, Jenny stepped into his room.

"Any change?" Asked Jenny of her male counterpart.

"Nope! He either sleeps or stares out of the window, I think he's not all there! Know what I mean?"

"You could be right! Anyway you'd better get going. Are you on tomorrow?" Jenny asked.

"Yeah. I'm on 2-10 tomorrow. Off on Friday and Saturday then start a week of nights. See you."

"Bye." Jenny replied as she settled in the armchair picking up that day's paper from the floor. The door had hardly closed when Harry reached over to grab the paper.

"Thank Merlin you're here! I've been dying to look at that paper all day!" Exclaimed Harry as he scoured the front page where the banner headline proclaimed. "KILLER NEPHEW: HUNT MOVES TO ESSEX". The article went on to say:

A statement issued by The Surrey Police today advises that the hunt for Harry Potter, the Surrey schoolboy wanted in connection with the murder of his Aunt Uncle and cousin, has moved from the South coat town of Hastings to Tilbury in Essex. A reliable but as yet un-named source notified the team investigating the murders which took place in the quiet stockbroker belt town of Little Whinging 18 days ago, that Potter (aged 16) travelled from Hastings to Tilbury by boat. Further investigation of the claim is currently being undertaken. The Police warned the general public not to approach Potter, as he is believed to be armed and extremely dangerous.

This note of warning is in addition to the release of the information Potter may be with his Godfather, Sirius Black, who escaped from prison 3 years ago. Black had been jailed for the murder of 14 people fifteen years ago and has yet to be-recaptured. It is highly likely that Black had influenced Potter and encouraged him to follow in his Godfather's evil ways."

Harry finished reading the paper and threw it to one side in disgust.

At that moment a nurse popped her head around the door. "You're wanted on the phone." Jenny stood up and went to take the call. Harry sat in his bed, his anxiety increasing as the moments ticked by.

When Jenny returned she looked furious but resigned. She reached into a pouch on her belt and withdrew a set of handcuffs. Making sure that the door was shut fast, she took one of the 'cuffs and placed it on Harry's right ankle and attached the other end to the frame of his bed.

"_What the…?" _Harry didn't need to complete his question.

"You read that article in the paper Harry. They now have proof positive that you're Harry Potter. Apparently Simon suspected as much and got a good set of prints taken by the Forensics and Scene of Crime Team from a mug you used the other day. They got a perfect match with prints for 4 Privet Drive. It's now my job to formally charge you with murder."

Harry's heart was beating 16 to the dozen again! Jenny noted all the blood draining from his face, which made the scar on his forehead stand out more visibly than ever. As she stood and looked at it the scar grew redder and redder until a tiny drop of blood trickled down into his right eye.

At the same time a terrifying high-pitched cackle issued from Harry's mouth.

--o-O-o--

_Harry found himself standing into a blazing fire in the centre of a massive ornate fireplace. The only light in the room came from the flickering flames and glowing embers._

"_Well done, Lucius." Said Harry his voice low and conveyed his pleasure and satisfaction at the turn of events. "The plan is succeeding despite the hiccup caused by that blundering fool Wormtail. How is your dear wife feeling now? She will be well rewarded for her efforts to bring the prize to Lord Voldemort."_

"_She was overjoyed at being able to assist you my Lord. The effects of using polyjuice potion for such a protracted period of time has left her feeling a little unwell but is now almost fully recovered." _

"_Good. It was fortunate indeed that she was familiar with muggle boats and sailing. An odd recreation for a woman but one that proved surprisingly useful." Responded Voldemort._

"_As you say my Lord." Replied Malfoy bowing low just within Harry field of vision._

"_And how is our guest doing downstairs Lucius? Has he provided the information I need?"_

"_The man is proving surprisingly difficult my Lord." Said Malfoy, hesitatingly._

_Voldemort swung around to stare his servant fully in the face. Malfoy quelled under the gaze._

"_Speak to me Lucius and do not lie! I would be most displeased were you to lie to me. Lord Voldemort always knows."_

_As he had been speaking Harry had clenched the fingers of his right hand; at the same instant Malfoy was raised up on his toes, the muscles of his neck taught and the marks of five fingers appeared on that fine white flesh. _

_He struggled for breath. "We are making progress my Lord. He is not a muggle as we first thought but a Squibb!"_

_A delighted smile crossed Harry's face. "A Squibb you say? Surprising news indeed Lucius. Yes I am indeed pleased. Fate one again favours Lord Voldemort!"_

_He relaxed his grip on Malfoy's throat who fell to the floor rubbing the abused skin. Harry let rip an almost hysterical whoop of laughter._

--o-O-o—

Whack! Jenny had slapped Harry around the face… hard! Now she was the one who was pale and shaky.

The door to the hospital room opened and two nurses stood there. "Everything OK?" The first nurse queried.

"Yes. Nothing I can't handle. My Sergeant will be here soon, can you make sure the SHO knows, he'll want to talk to him when he arrives."

"I'll have to bleep him, he's on call. How long do you reckon?" The nurse enquired.

"About half-an-hour." Jenny answered. The door closed. Jenny leaned close to Harry

"What the hell was all that about?"

"I told Sam to stay away from me, that I'd just cause him problems but No! _"It's my destiny Harry" _he said, and look where it's got him! A cell in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor!"

"Harry you're not making much sense and I don't have time for your ranting just now! I have to talk to my Gran and quick."

Harry didn't know why Jenny suddenly had to talk to her Grandmother and right now he didn't much care, he just lay back on his pillows and stared at the ceiling and let the tears come. They were silent and Harry cried not for himself but for Sam. Harry had shown a great resilience to the Unforgivable curses but then he was a wizard and a seemingly powerful, though not fully trained, one at that. But Sam? What could poor Squibb Sam do? He wouldn't be able to resist! He was as good as dead and it was his, Harry's, fault.

Yet another death on his conscience!

"Are you listening?" Jenny almost shouted in Harry's ear.

"What?" Harry queried by apathetically. He felt that nothing he could do would help Sam now. Harry was almost ready to give up.

"I was saying that I'll phone my Gran as soon as I can. I'm sure she'll come up with something."

"Whatever." Harry said resignedly. Apathy was settling around Harry like a thick and smothering blanket. Harry did not have the strength left to fight. This worried Jenny more than anything else.

From what Harry had told Eleanor and her, Harry had always been a fighter. Now he was letting his apparent helplessness mount up like an unassailable wall around him.

The hospital room door opened and in walked a uniformed Police Sergeant, the three stripes clearly visible on his jacket sleeve.

"Sir." Said Jenny as she stood to attention.

The Sergeant nodded and Jenny relaxed her posture. The Sergeant acknowledged the handcuffs attached to the bed and to Harry's ankle.

"Have you formally cautioned him yet?"

"Was just about to sir, when you arrived."

Jenny laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry James Potter I hereby arrest you for the murders of Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley of number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging in the County of Surrey and Marjorie Edith Dursley of Kennel Lane, Layer Martington, in the County of Essex. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in Court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

At Harry's total lack of response Jenny looked at her Sergeant and shrugged. After a moment the Sergeant spoke up.

"Potter! Do you understand what just happened? You've just been arrested for the murder of your family!"

Slowly! Very slowly, Harry turned his gaze on the face of the Police Sergeant.

"And you think that is supposed to worry me, how?" Queried Harry.

"We have evidence that you committed the murders. Eye witness accounts!"

"I very much doubt that I'll live long enough to stand trial." Harry stated in a flat monotone.

The Sergeant turned to face Jenny. "I thought the SHO reported Potter was making an excellent recovery; is that not so?"

Before Jenny could answer, Harry made a snort of derision. "No it's not these" he pointed at the dressings still covering his broken ribs "that will kill me but believe me I'll never be allowed to stand trial. HE'll see to that!"

"Have you been getting all this down Cantwell?"

"Yes sir. I think so sir!" Jenny had been writing Harry's words down in her pocket-book.

_She sounds like Percy Weasley _thought Harry. This brought Harry's mind to Dumbledore, he'd been able to 'save the day' at his trial last summer, would he be able to do so again? 'Great man Dumbledore' Hagrid always said. Well it would certainly take a great man to be able to save Harry's neck this time.

"Committal Proceedings to be held next Monday with probable transfer to Saltmarsh Prison, Hospital Wing after that.

"Yes sir. Sir, what about his defence? Will the Duty Solicitor be notified?"

"No need to notify anyone."

In the doorway stood a pink cheeked, black haired woman in an immaculately cut business suit of charcoal grey, a pristine white shirt visible beneath it. She carried over one shoulder a briefcase and in her left hand she held out a business card, which she handed to the Sergeant.

"I am Mr. Potter's solicitor. My firm has represented his family for many years and now if you have concluded the formalities with regards to his arrest, I suggest you leave as I would like to speak to my Client in private."

The young woman carried an indisputable air of authority; clearly she was accustomed to her orders being complied with. Therefore without a single question or objection both Jenny and the Sergeant obediently left the room.

Harry had hardly acknowledged her present. In fact he had hardly moved at all.

As the door closed shut, the young solicitor moved to close the curtains at the window, on the way she tripped over the wheel at the corner of Harry's bed. The briefcase went flying and so did she, landing in an inelegant heap on the floor.

"Great Merlin preserve me from my own clumsiness!" she exclaimed but this time in a very different voice.

Instantly Harry snapped out of his apathetic mood as he looked over the edge of his bed to see not a cool, calm and commanding solicitor but…

"_TONKS!"_

* * *

Thanks for the continued reviews of my work. Each and every comment is very much appreciated. Posting a day early as I may not have access to a PC tomorrow. 


	18. To climb a mountain you must first take ...

Thank you all for your continued support with your reviews. As always they are much appreciated.

**Chapter 18 : To climb a mountain you must first take one step**

"Wotcher Harry!"

Harry's face broke into a real grin. "Did you hurt yourself!" asked Harry.

"No. It takes a lot more than that to hurt me. Anyway, how are you?"

"I'm …!" Harry had opened his mouth to reply when he recalled Moody cautiously verifying Harry's identity back in Privet Drive.

"Er… Nymphadora, what did you break in my Aunt's kitchen last August?"

"Don't call me Nymphadora Harry, you know I hate it! I broke a plate when we arrived and before you came downstairs!"

It was true but Harry was still cautious "And why did Remus ask for a glass of water?" Challenged Harry.

"Nice one Harry!" Tonks smiled. "Remus didn't but Mad-Eye did, he needed it to clean that accursed eyeball of his."

Harry breathed out an enormous sigh of relief.

"Good questions Harry! Mad-Eye was right. You do have the makings of an Auror. Yes I know it was Barty Crouch who originally told you that but Minerva told us your hopes after your career talk with her and we all reckon you'd be excellent."

"If I live that long!" Harry's good mood at seeing Tonks was evaporating fast.

"Right then, to business!" Said Tonks detecting Harry's more serious frame of mind.

"Committal Proceedings are set for next Monday to be held at the local Magistrates Court. The Doctor says you should be fit enough to attend Court by then. You'll be taken by Ambulance with an armed escort. … What?"

Tonks voice trailed off. Harry shook his head.

"Sorry. It's just that I'm not used to seeing you like this."

"Harry would this help?" Tonks screwed up her face in pained concentration, immediately her hair turned a violent shade of violet, then switched to vibrant bubblegum pink.

Harry smiled one more. Another grimace crossed Tonks face as her hair returned, not a moment too soon, back to black. The door opened, Jenny stepped in and closed the door behind her.

"NOTTY! Is it really you?"

Now it was Jenny's turn to look gobsmacked.

"TONKS! Is that you?"

The two young women clung to each other for a moment both smiling like mad.

"Well Harry, I think your chances of getting out of this mess have just about doubled." Said Jenny.

"You two know each other?" quizzed Harry.

"Know each other?" They chorused. "We're family!"

"Well, sort of. My mum and Tonks' mum are second cousins once removed … or something anyway. Never could get my head around the family tree. We used to live right across the street from each other."

"That was before…." Jenny's eyes looked mournful for a moment.

"As I was saying…" continued Tonks. "I am your solicitor Harry and as such I'll be with you for the Committal Proceedings on Monday. It's set for…" She picked up her briefcase, opened it and took out a file extracting a document, which she consulted. "11.00 am in the Magistrates Court. You won't have to say anything just acknowledge your identity then you'll be taken to Saltmarsh Prison, Hospital Wing on Remand."

"Can't the Order get me out of here Tonks?" Tonks sent him a warning look. Harry was puzzled but kept silent.

"I'll be just outside if you need me." said Jenny leaving the two alone once more.

"Harry, just because Jenny and I know each other doesn't mean she knows about the Order! You really have to be more careful."

"But I thought?" Harry was even more confused now. "Her grandmother is a member isn't she?" Harry had a moment of panic. He had told the old lady everything – well almost everything. Was she not to be trusted?

"Oh Eleanor's a member alright Harry. How did you think I came to be here? She contacted Dumbledore by fire the moment she got home. The situation is in hand and you must try to not worry.

"But what about the Ministry? Won't the Magical Law Enforcement Squad be informed?"

"Not necessarily. You have been charged with the murder of Muggles, by a muggle Police Officer under muggle laws. True the cause of death will be very difficult to prove in a muggle Court of Law – did you know the Avada Kedavra curse leaves no marks on it's victims? Unfortunately there were witnesses who saw the act committed!"

"Does Bill Weasley still think it was me?" The Weasleys were the only true family Harry had and their good opinion of him mattered very much to Harry.

"Bill? Oh, good Lord. No Harry, I don't think he really believed it even when he saw what he supposedly saw. Do you know he set out to try and find you himself as soon as it happened; spent days riding around on that old bike of Sirius' trying to pick up your trail. He was determined to prove himself wrong!"

Harry had just opened his mouth to ask about Ginny when Jenny and her Sergeant re-entered the room.

"Excellent timing Sergeant." Tonks stated commandingly. "We're all finished here. Well I'll see you on Monday Mr. Potter. Until then." She tuned to face the two police officers. "Sergeant, Constable." Tonks nodded her head in parting and left the room at the same time as another PC entered.

"PC Wrightson reporting Sergeant."

"Excellent time Wrightson." The Sergeant exclaimed parroting Tonks parting shot. Jenny just raised her eyebrows to Harry in acknowledgement.

"Cantwell and I will be leaving now you're here. Got a lot of paperwork to see to back at the station in connection with Potter here. Don't let the lad's appearance fool you. He's been charged with four counts of murder."

"Sir. Yes Sir." Snapped Wrightson. He turned to look at Harry with a sneer on his face of which Snape would have been proud.

-o-O-o-

Before the end of the day Harry the Doctor came to visit his patient the murderer.

"Well I never. A murderer eh? And an English one at that!"

"I never murdered anyone!" Harry exclaimed. "But then again I suppose that's what they all say."

"Well my job's to heal the body – not the soul. So how're you feeling?" Harry the Doctor had asked this as he lifted up Harry's wrist to check his pulse. "Mmm. It's racing a bit. Any pain?"

"Not especially. I do feel a bit light-headed but that's all."

"From what I understand you've not been eating much. Are you hungry now? I might be able to get Staff to rustle you up something."

"I do fancy a mug of hot chocolate." Replied Harry. Hadn't Lupin and Dumbledore always recommended chocolate after a stressful or trying experience.

"Sounds good to me, let's see what's available." Doctor Harry strode from the room.

It seemed like no time at all until Doctor Harry was back holding two mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

"Now drink it all up! Doctor's orders." The two Harry's smiled at each other over the rims of their mugs.

"I told her you know."

"Mmm? Who?"

"Jenny. I told her you fancied her."

The young doctor spluttered hot chocolate over Harry's bed covers. "You what? You told her?"

"Uh-hah!" Harry smiled his most devilish smile.

"And … er… what did she …?"

Oh this was such fun! Harry fully appreciated the twins joy as they teased Ron and Ginny! Harry tried to think how Fred and George would wind up Percy when he first showed his interest in Penelope Clearwater.

But he couldn't do it.

Fred and George could sometimes be almost malicious in their teasing of their siblings but looking at his namesake's earnest and hopeful expression his desire to torment melted away. He looked straight into his eye and said.

"I think she fancies you too. Haven't you noticed the looks she keeps giving you and how she starts to blush each time you speak to her? You make her nervous and I think she likes that." Said Harry as seriously as he could.

"I make her nervous?" The Doctor asked in all seriousness.

Harry nodded. "She also liked the way you always looked at me when you spoke to me, even though you believed I couldn't understand a word you said. Jenny said it showed how compassionate and understanding you were."

"She said that? She really said that?" Now Doctor Harry was blushing.

They'd finished their drinks. The mugs sitting side-by-side on Harry's locker. "Do you need anything to help you sleep? I can write you up for something!"

At Harry's puzzled expression he elaborated. "I can prescribe a sleeping tablet if you need one."

Harry nodded his agreement. As much as he'd like to see and to talk to Ginny he felt he needed to think through the day's events alone first. Doctor Harry took the prescription chart from the casenotes at the foot of Harry's bed. He scribbled something on it adding his signature with a final flourish.

"They'll do final observations and drugs round in about ten minutes. I've written you up a mild sedative, it should help you to sleep soundlessly tonight."

"Thanks." Muttered Harry. He'd rather his sleep was dreamless not soundless. The last thing he needed was Voldemort popping into his head.

Trying hard to recall Snape's instructions on how to clear his mind of all thought before sleeping, Harry concentrated on his Occlumency as never before.

Slowly, so very slowly, Harry drifted off to sleep.

-o-O-o-

Just as had happened to Harry before when facing unpleasant or stressful tasks, so it was that the weekend seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. All too soon it was Monday morning and Harry was sitting waiting for his escort of armed Police Officers to take him to Court.

Harry had awoken earlier than was usual in the hospital. Tea was as usual brought in by the ward's domestic staff, otherwise known as Olive; once she knew Harry could speak English she made a point of chatting to him each time she came in. She told Harry he reminded her of her grandson "he's skin and bones too! She never gives him enough to eat – poor little mite! Says too mind kids end up obese these days. But Darren's hardly got any flesh on him! Catches every bug doing the rounds too! 'Taint healthy I say." This tirade usually ended with her producing some treat, sometimes a few extra biscuits or a piece of fruit especially for Harry.

At first Harry was surprised, he'd have thought Olive would have been one to steer clear of a suspected murderer instead of trying to talk him under her wing.

"Murder! Bah! What nonsense! That lad's got nothing but a good heart. He's never hurt no-one." Harry had heard Olive make this surprising statement to the Staff Nurse who had tried – and failed – to warn Olive of the danger in spending too much time with the accused murderer. Harry wondered at the time how Olive would have reacted had she heard Trelawney's prophecy that he must become just that, a murderer or a victim.

Physically now Harry was healing well. All the catheters had long since been removed and, much to Harry's relief, he had been allowed to have a proper bath for the first time in what seemed like forever. Fortunately attending a boarding school meant Harry felt little or no embarrassment about stripping off in front of others, he'd gotten over that in his first few months at Hogwarts. It did seem somewhat odd to have an armed policeman standing watching while he bathed and one who did not believe in small talk.

Harry would have loved to be able to enjoy a nice long soak but it was not to be. There were many other patients waiting to use the too few bathrooms, so it was a quick in, scrub and out again. The worse part was having to walk the length of the ward handcuffed to the policeman with all the faces turning to look and stare at the Teenage Killer in their midst.

Only Olive seemed sure of Harry's innocence. He knew not why but he was eternally grateful for her friendship. Olive was sitting on the end of Harry's bed making idle chit-chat when Tonks made an unexpected visit just after breakfast.

"Morning Mr. Potter. Thought I'd stop by and bring you some clean clothes for you to wear today. It is my understanding that the clothes you had been wearing at the time of your accident had to be cut off by the paramedics who attended the scene. So here we are!"

A carrier bag was placed on the bed. Harry tipped the contents out so he could examine them. Tonks had chosen a pair of plain black trousers, a pure white button-down shirt together with plain black trainers socks and boxers. As it was still the middle of summer there was no jacket, jumper or sweatshirt.

There was also a small wash-bag containing a few basic toiletries, including toothpaste, toothbrush and a comb. Harry pulled the last item out and made vain attempts to get his unruly hair to behave. Olive just giggled. She sounded more like a schoolgirl than a grandmother.

"Oh, I'd give up if I were you!" She said laughingly.

"I know. It's a losing battle, my mate Ron's mum even tries wetting it first but it makes no difference, it still ends up standing on end!"

"Why don't you try growing it long then? If you do that then you could tie it back in a ponytail."

The suggestion from Olive made Harry reply "Are you serious? Ron's mum's always telling her son Bill to cut his. I thought older ladies were supposed to prefer the "short back and sides look".

"Not me Harry. My Stan, god rest his soul, had a good head of hair until the day he died. It was grey of course but he had his hair long but then most bikers do! Had some lovely tattoos too did Stan." Olive gave a little wistful sniffle at the memory of her late husband.

"Biker? Don't tell me…?" Harry had to smile at the idea of Olive on a motorbike.

"Oh, yes, but them's tales for another time Harry. I'd better leave so you can get changed." Olive turned to Tonks. "You too young lady. The lady needs his privacy!"

"Oh. Right. Of course. I'll be just outside." The two women left Harry to get ready for his second trial.

Harry had dressed in the clothes supplied by Tonks. For the first time in his life Harry had muggle clothes that actually fitted him and fitted him well. He thought his appearance would have pleased Mrs. Weasley, he recalled her saying 'first impressions matter' or words to that effect. As it was still quite wet from his bath and hair wash, Harry's hair looked as smart as it ever did. By the time he got to the court it would probably be its usual messy state. Some things not even magic could fix.

Perhaps he would try growing it long, Ginny certainly like Bill's long hair perhaps she'd like Harry's?

The harsh sound of handcuffs being opened brought Harry's thoughts back to the here and now. Dr. McGregor had insisted that in view of his recent injuries of two broken ribs, a collapsed lung, severe concussion and numerous deep lacerations and contusions, as well as a dislocated left shoulder, there was no way that he would allow Harry to travel other than in a wheelchair and accompanied by at least two nurses.

So it was that Harry sat in the wheelchair when two male nurses brought it into the room. The duty PC was informed that both men were also trained Mental Health Nurses and as such were used to dealing with violent and aggressive patients. Harry wanted to laugh at this but he decided against as it still hurt his healing ribs when he did.

There he was, the proverbial 9 stone weakling, recovering from a collapsed lung, both wrists cuffed together and his left ankle handcuffed to the wheelchair. Some threat he didn't think!

It was like his introduction to the wizarding world, his reputation preceded him and the reality was much less (in his opinion) than the reputation led to expect.

In this reality he was being treated as a cold, calculating killer of the entire family who so generously took him into their home and their hearts. At least that was how he was being portrayed in the tabloid press. They were almost as bad as Rita Skeeter, Harry decided.

The entourage made their way out of the ward and along a blue-painted corridor to a lift which they took to the ground floor. Along another corridor with more staring faces and then finally, out through double automatic doors to a waiting ambulance. Harry could see a police car in front of them and another one behind.

It was ridiculous!

Who did they think he was? Harry Houdini and not just Harry Potter?

Last year he told Lucius Malfoy that he was 'good at escaping' but he couldn't see anyway to escape from this mess.

The tail-lift of the ambulance was lowered and Harry was wheeled on; the lift rose and the wheelchair secured in the back.

The traffic was surprisingly heavy still considering it was 10.30 am and well past rush-hour. Harry heard the regular tick-tick of the vehicles indicators as it joined the main flow of traffic. All too soon they were at their destination, the back doors were being opened and the wheelchair clamp released.

The Combined Court House was a very bright modern building with finishing, window frames and doors in a bright vivid blue. It's cheerful exterior adorned by huge relief showing the Royal Court of Arms. Harry thought its façade was in stark contrast to his mood which was deep and dark with despair.

_What was going to happen to him?_

Tonks had warned Harry that he may only have a Remand Hearing today, in which case it was likely that he would be returned to the hospital rather than the prison as they had thought at first. Harry's doctors had apparently stated that he was not yet sufficiently healed to permit his on-going care to be managed by a prison hospital; therefore he should be returned to the hospital.

But Harry's dark mood had painted a blacker picture; one in which Bill Weasley and other faceless witnesses proclaimed his indescribable guilt! At these times Harry imagined himself being clapped in irons and led off screaming to start a life sentence behind bars in a Muggle prison.

As these depressing thoughts whirled through Harry's mind he was being wheeled to a block of a dozen holding cells in the rear of the building.

Clean and spotless they may have been but at the sound of the heavy metal door clanging shut behind him, Harry's heart sank right through his boots. Though he could not see his own reflection Harry knew all the colour had drained from his face.

Inevitably Harry's thoughts turned to Sirius. How had he survived twelve years behind bars? Like Harry, Sirius had been innocent of the crimes for which he had been imprisoned.

Life was just so unfair!

Well at least they don't have Dementors in muggle prisons, Harry rationalised, the only glimmer of light in this whole depressing scenario.

All too soon Harry's wait was over. The small hatch on the door of Harry's cell opened, a uniformed Court Officer stood there looking unemotionally at Harry.

"Potter. You're up next."

The hatch was closed and secured, the key turned in the lock once more. Silently the door opened and the Court Officer entered.

As he wheeled Harry to the Court Room, the Officer filled him as to the procedure that would be followed.

The Court was a Magistrates Court with no Judges on the bench just Magistrates who ruled on cases, passing those as appropriate on to the High Court. Minor cases were dealt with at this level and only the more serious cases referred on the High Courts that were presided over by robed and bewigged Judges.

Harry nodded his understanding, not trusting himself to speak.

By now they were approaching the door into the Court Room itself. Somehow, Harry didn't know quite why, he had expected the room to be deserted as it had been for his Ministry hearing.

Instead it was full to bursting point.

It was perhaps fortunate that Harry was already sitting down because he felt that his legs would give way at any moment. The wheelchair was pushed towards the dock. One of Harry's regular police guards (thank goodness it wasn't Jenny thought Harry) stepped forward and without the slightest sign of familiarity bent to unlock the handcuffs securing Harry's ankles to the wheelchair.

No attempt was made, however, to unlock the handcuffs securing his wrists; as a result when Harry tried to stand up he ended up stumbling forward and only prevented himself falling over with the greatest difficulty.

The spectators in the Court were all whispering but really quite loudly. He was certain he caught the word 'muggle' and guessed that there were some members of the wizarding word here to see the fall of The-Boy-Who-Lived. 'Well' Harry thought 'they were likely to get their wish1'

There were a number of what Harry presumed to be Court Officials, sitting near the front of the courtroom, behind large tables covered with leather-bound books.

The Court Usher asked for everyone to stand as a door opened at the back of the courtroom and two men and one woman entered wearing very ordinary business clothes. They looked more like bank managers rather than people who would decide his fate, thought Harry.

The Usher declared that the Court was now in-session and everyone sat down.

Tonks, once more looking most unlike her usual self, was seated at a table near the front of the courtroom facing the Bench as the presiding Magistrates were called.

A tall bespectacled man with very blond hair stood up and identified himself as Peter Sampson of the Crown Prosecution Service. From the briefing Tonks had given Harry before they left the hospital, Harry knew it was this man's job to prove there was a case to answer and that there was sufficient evidence that Harry be tried for that charge.

Tonks then stood and identified herself as Miss Dora Tonks, a solicitor engaged by the accused to act on his behalf and to show there was no case to answer and therefore no charge to be defended.

These opening statements puzzled Harry.

_No case to answer?_

_What could that mean?_

The Dursleys were all dead, surely that meant someone did it – even though Harry knew he hadn't! There was no time for all the possibilities to sink in, as the most senior of the Magistrates obviously required just that question to be answered.

Tonks stood and faced The Bench.

"Madam Chairman, you ask how I can question the validity of the charges brought against my Client, Mr. Harry James Potter. I have evidence that would bring serious doubt not upon the fact of the deaths of the Dursley family but about it's cause."

Tonks went on to explain "It is usual, is it not, for a case of sudden death to be brought first to the Coroner's Court to determine the _cause_ of death? I am at a loss to understand why in the case of the deaths of the Dursley family this course was not followed. Upon my own investigation and with verification by independent and bona-fide sources, I can prove not only that Mr. Potter is innocent of the charges laid against him but also that indeed there was no-one to blame for those untimely deaths, except the Dursley family themselves."

At this pronouncement loud muttering and murmuring from the crowded pubic benches caused the Chairman of the Bench to call repeatedly for order. Harry could see the reports scribbling in notebooks or dictating quietly into hand-hand dictation machines. A Court artist had turned from his sketch of Harry sitting in the dock to start a new sketch of the pubic reaction.

Through it all Harry sat there dumbfounded; a large lump sitting in his throat 'til Harry felt that he wouldn't be able to speak if he was asked to.

The Chairman of the Bench looked at Tonks over the top of her rimless glasses much as Professor McGonagall was in the habit of doing; Harry hoped that she would exhibit the same over-riding sense of fairplay that his Head of House did. When she spoke it was brief and to the point.

"Please explain what is meant by _not_ following the usual course? Surely a Coroner's Inquest into these deaths has already taken place and a verdict recorded?"

"Indeed not, Madam Chairman. You will find no ruling in these deaths at all in the Court records presented today." Replied Tonks, as clearly and as succinctly as any professional solicitor.

"Tut, tut! This is most irregular." Stated the Chairman. The Bench then turned as one to face the Crown Prosecution Service Solicitor whose blond head could be seen bent low over the stacks of papers in front of him.

"Mr. Simpson, what say you? Have these deaths been confirmed as illegal or not?" Asked the clearly astonished Chairman.

The CPS Solicitor barely glanced up as he ploughed through the reams of paper in front of him. "I really can't understand it Madam. I can only say that I _thought_ the Inquest had been held, I'd been sure …" his voice trailed away to nothing.

"This is outrageous! In all my years on The Bench I have never seen such an ill-prepared and ill-presented case. This young man has been charged with no less than four counts of murder and now you tell me that you have yet to prove conclusively that _any_ crime was in fact committed?"

"Madam Chairman. If I may make a statement?" queried Tonks in her most formal and deferential manner.

"Certainly you may young woman. I have no doubt that the defence at least is fully prepared and conversant with pertinent facts." As she spoke the Chairman continued to glower at the CPS Solicitor.

"Thank you Madam. You are most gracious. In my extensive preparations for today's hearing I called upon the services of an expert witness. With the Court's permission and in order to prevent a miscarriage of justice, may I call for Mr. Stephen Andrew Deller to take the stand?"

"Certainly." Came the very rapid response from The Bench.

The Court Usher then called for the witness to come forward.

A very rotund middle-aged man who jet black, obviously dyed, hair and wearing a bright red waistcoat and matching bow-tie stepped towards the front of the Court. The Usher indicated where the witness was to stand and administered The Oath.

Tonks stood once more and addressed the florid-faced man who, after confirming his identity, went on to describe his occupation as a Forensic Pathologist.

"Would I be correct in assuming, Mr. Deller, that in your role as a Forensic Pathologist you are familiar with death and it's many causes." Questioned Tonks.

"Just so. I have over thirty years experienced as a qualified physician and twenty-two years as a Coroner in New Zealand before coming back to England to care for my aged Mother. It has been my duty to determine the cause of death in over 1800 cases in that time." It was obvious that Mr. Deller was very accustomed to presenting evidence to a Court of Law.

"And what, Mr. Deller, were you able to determine at Number 4 Privet Drive, in the County of Surrey?" asked Tonks.

Deller replied: "I was asked to assess the scene of death and to determine beyond any shadow of a doubt the cause or causes of death of the four individuals whose bodies were found at that address, seated still at the dining table."

"And what did your preliminary investigations show?" continued Tonks.

For the next half-an-hour Harry, along with everyone else in the Courtroom, sat in utter silence while Dr. Deller described each cadaver (Harry recoiled each time the word was used!), its condition at time of death. He went on to list, with nauseating attention to detail, what samples were removed and then what tests were then carried out on said samples. He seemed to relish his role and dramatically waved his arms and hands as he described just how he removed the organs, one-by-one, to determine the cause of death.

By the time Dr. Deller had finished even the Chairman of The Bench looked a little green around the edges when she asked "… and what, in your expert opinion _was_ the cause of death?"

"Ah! Well, that's the funny thing. They _all_ seemed to be perfectly healthy apart from the fact that they were all dead!" stated Deller with a somewhat inappropriate grin on his face!

Harry groaned inwardly. This was getting them nowhere!

"… so then I stated to examine samples removed from the scene and from the stomachs of the cadavers!" (There was that awful word again thought Harry!)

"Eureka! I had found it!" Dr. Deller reminded Harry suddenly of a stage magician for at his exclamation he had pulled a bright red handkerchief from his top pocket with such a theatrical flourish that Harry half expected him to produce a dove from its midst at any second. Instead, the Doctor used it to mop his sweating brow before exclaiming in a hammy stage-whisper…

"_POISON"_

The Doctor's piggy little eyes travelled over everyone in the Courtroom and when he looked straight into Harry's eyes Harry felt a strange and comforting presence in the back of his mind.

"_Don't give up Harry. All is not lost. Help is to hand closer than you think!" _Harry felt the sentiment rather than heard the words themselves. _Had Deller used Legillimency on Harry as their eyes met?_ The oppressive weight of worries on Harry suddenly felt a lot lighter.

"POISON? But you implied that the Dursleys were not killed illegally? Now you say they were poisoned! For goodness sake man, cut out the theatrical presentation and answer a simple question. _Were Vernon, Petunia, Dudley and Marjorie Dursley murdered or not?"_

"My apologies good lady. I must admit my showmanship does carry me away on occasion. The Dursleys most certainly were poisoned but after stringent and exacting analysis of the stomach contents and the remains of the shared evening meal I can conclusively prove the cause of death.

Miss Dursley brought with her to Privet Drive a quantity of goats' milk and goats' milk cheese given to her by one Colonel Fubster, a neighbour and friend of Miss Dursley. On the evening of her arrival Mrs Petunia Dursley used both the goats' milk and cheese as ingredients in a home-cooked cauliflower cheese dish which she served as an accompaniment to that evening's meal."

"And this is relevant how?" This question came not from the Chairman of The Bench this time but a tiny, quiet and non-descript man sitting on her left.

"I'm coming to that!" snapped Dr. Deller who obviously disliked the interruption.

The tiny Magistrate muttered an almost silent "Sorry!" before Deller continued his narrative.

"Under normal conditions the cheese and milk would have been perfectly safe for consumption. Unfortunately Colonel Fubster's goats had been fed grain as part of their daily diet and their grain had been stored in less than ideal conditions. A fungus had contaminated the feedstuff upon which the poor unfortunate beasts had been feeding. This fungus crossed into the milk produced by these creatures. The goats themselves had been displaying somewhat erratic behaviour but the Colonel had been in the habit of consuming somewhat more in the way of alcoholic beverages than was perhaps good for him. Thus he was oblivious to the dangers, also he hated the taste of the animals milk and cheese and never consumed it himself."

"So you're saying that the cheese and milk contained this poison and that alone was the cause of death in these four cases?" The voice of the tiny Magistrate was quiet but every person in the Courtroom turned to look at him. It looked as though it had taken every ounce of courage he had to speak up.

"What do you mean? It makes perfect sense!" Blustered Deller.

"But surely the accused, Harry Potter, was also a resident of the house on the evening in question. Would he not also have partaken of the …" He looked down at his handwritten notes "… cauliflower cheese? Why then were only four people poisoned and the fifth unaffected?"

"Good question, Bradshaw!" Acknowledged the Chairman. "Well?" She demanded. "What do you say to that?"

Dr. Deller looked flustered for a moment but then started to look through for the first time, an enormous pile of papers. After much consultation he eventually had to shrug his shoulders. "Sorry, I have no idea!"

Harry's heart sank. He had been pinning his hopes on Dellar's testimony and now it looked as though they'd been dashed.

"Wait a minute." Thought Harry. He indicated to Tonks that he needed to speak to her.

"Madame Chairman may I request a short recess. My Client is still recovering from some very severe injuries and is finding the stresses of this hearing to be most arduous."

"Court will adjourn for one hour for lunch." The Chairman announced.

"All rise!" stated the Usher, as the occupants of the Court stood then slowly filed out.

Harry was allowed to use the wheelchair for his return to the holding cell. Tonks followed him in to the tiny room and sat on the bunk built into the wall.

"Tonks, I'd just like to say thanks, you're being brilliant today. Even if things go against me, I really appreciate …"

"Harry! Shut it will you! You sound as though we're losing. You heard Deller it was the goats milk. The CPS is going to have to prove you knew it was harmful and to prove you knowingly fed it to the Dursleys! It's all about proof Harry and they're going to be hard pressed to prove anything. Especially when we know the _TRUE_ cause of death had nothing to do with goats or cheese! You just can't prove AK as a cause of death in a muggle court!"

"Oh. You mean they didn't really eat cauliflower cheese for dinner?" Queried Harry.

"Harry, give over, of course not but you know they didn't, you were there after all!" said Tonks incredulously.

"Now you've got to be joking. After what happened at dinner last time Aunt Marge came to stay!" Harry stated expecting a nod of understanding from Tonks instead of which she looked mystified for a moment.

"What do you mean Harry?"

"Didn't Dumbledore tell you? I well I … sort of … lost control of my magic. I blew her up until she was floating on the ceiling!" Harry stammered out his reply having the good grace to look abashed.

"You didn't? Honestly?"

Harry nodded sheepishly "I didn't mean to do it. The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad had to puncture her and modify her memory and everything. I thought I was going to be arrested then but it was all covered up in the wake of Sirius' escape from Azkaban."

Tonks nodded her understanding. "So that's why Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon kept me as far away from Aunt Marge as possible. The night she arrived I was kept working in the garden until they had their meal. All I got was a slice of cold toast left over from breakfast and a couple of over-ripe bananas, oh and I found a Mars bar Dudley had hidden from Aunt Petunia in the garden shed."

"So you didn't eat any cauliflower cheese?"

"Nope! Not a mouthful!"

This last question by Tonks and Harry's answer actually brought a smile to both their faces. "I think we're home and dry Harry!" Tonks gathered up all her papers back into her briefcase. Before she left the tiny cell she placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a 'thumbs up' sign.

Another Court Officer had brought a meal for Harry. It was on a steel tray divided into compartments and a disgusting looking brown mess in one compartment was accompanied by a gloopy cream coloured mess in another. Harry thought it was supposed to be savoury minced beef with mashed potatoes. It looked and smelled revolting.

The desert was a sort-of-set green stuff which Harry presumed was a lime jelly but looked like bubo tuber pus and smelled just as bad. The cutlery was made of plastic not metal and the only other item he was given was a mug of tea; it was hot and strong. Harry held it in his hands until it had cooled enough to drink. The warmth radiated through him making him suddenly sleepy. He lay down on the bench and feel asleep immediately.


	19. The Calm Before

**Chapter 19 : The Calm Before**

The sky was clear crystal clear and the stars shone with a peculiarly vivid brilliance. As Harry looked skyward he realised that not even in the midnight astronomy lessons had the stars displayed themselves with such dazzling clarity. He was totally awestruck.

"Beautiful sight, isn't it?"

The words could have been spoken by Harry himself for they reflected his feelings exactly. He was not, however, thinking about stars but the young woman standing beside him.

Harry smiled at Ginny like a lovesick idiot. "Beautiful." He repeated gently taking her hand in his. A distant corner of his brain registered that Ginny was speaking but he wasn't listening. He was content, really content, to just stand here and stare long and deep into Ginny's eyes and forget everything else.

He was broken from his reverie by the object of his fascination slapping his arm.

"Harry? Well?"

"Very well!" It was no good he was just too unwilling to release his mood but Ginny wasn't having any of it. She released his hand and took a step away from him and stood, feet apart, her fisted hands on her hips and a determined glare in her eyes which were now sparkling dangerously.

"Harry! I want some answers here! What's happening? How's it going? How come you're asleep right now? Aren't you still in Court?" The questions were coming thick and fast.

"Hold fire Gin!" Harry said holding both hands up, palms out in a defensive gesture. "One question at a time!"

It was only then that Harry realised where they were.

They were in a tree house Mr. Weasley had built many years before so Ginny could escape from her brothers. Outside the tree house fierce winds blew as a terrible storm raged, the sky periodically split by bright bolts of lightning followed by deafening claps of thunder.

Inside the tree house however it was calm, warm and cosy. The dry walls seemed to glow with a gentle light like candle flames. The contrast was startling – like night and day. Harry had wondered how it could be and once again Ginny knew his question without it being spoken.

"This is my refuge – sanctuary if you will. When Dad built it so I could escape from my brothers he and Mum placed charms and wards on it so it could be seen by only those who I wanted to find it." Explained Ginny.

"Oh. This is your bolt-hole." Stated Harry.

"My what?" replied Ginny, puzzled.

"Fred, George and Ron told me years ago that they reckoned you had a secret bolt-hole. They spent hours searching for you but never found you. They'd even wondered if you could make yourself invisible!"

Ginny laughed uproariously at that. "Invisible! If only …!" The laughter died from her face as quickly as it had come. "There were times in my first year at Hogwarts when I certainly felt invisible. Nobody seemed to notice me or what was happening and I was almost powerless to attract anyone's attention."

Ginny seemed to feel Harry's sense of guilt at not realising what she'd gone through. "Oh, Harry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you feel guilty. It wasn't your fault. Dumbledore explained to me that it was all part of Tom's charm on the diary. Voldemort knew that the person writing in it would be seen by others so he bewitched it so they'd not be noticed. It all just added to my sense of isolation that year." Ginny concluded.

"I never knew. Always thought you were just writing notes for homework or something. Never imaged…!"

Ginny placed her fingertips gently over Harry's lips to silence him. "That's the past Harry. This is now. I only mentioned it because this place has helped me heal from all life's hurts whether from prank-playing big brothers or from evil Dark Lords. You're here with me now because you too need to heal, both physically and emotionally. Let me be your sanctuary – your "bolt-hole".

Ginny was standing very close to Harry, very close! He snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. He wanted to kiss her he knew that now. Ginny moved, she placed her left cheek to his chest just above his heart: she stayed like that for some moments. Harry became aware that his heartbeats were getting faster and faster. He bent his head and placed his left cheek on the top of her silky soft hair.

Outside the tree house the storm had ended and there was a spectacular sunset. The air felt fresh and invigorating. Harry was basking in the arms of this ever-surprising young woman. How had he not noticed how special she was before now? He felt Ginny's small hands press into his back; at the same time she turned to look up into Harry's eyes.

They moved even closer. Her lips were parted slightly, Harry copied her and the distance between them grew less and less…

Suddenly an ice-cold wind blasted through the tree house. They were plunged into total darkness. Harry heart an all-too-familiar rattling sound mingled with a woman's unending scream!

- zzz -

Instantly Harry sat up. He was back in the holding cell at the Court House but the ice-cold was real, it cut through him like a knife. The lights flickered and Harry felt sure they were about to go out. He stood and made his way shakily to the door.

"What's happening? What's going on out there?" But Harry's urgent pleading went unanswered.

Harry placed both hands flat on the door and wished it would just open! He heard a resounding click and the door swung outwards as the lights gave one final flicker and died. From somewhere to his right came screams from many voices, high-pitched panicky screams and running footsteps.

From other cells came voices pleading for release.

Harry made his way back along the route to the main Courtroom. It was a sight that would stay with him for the rest of his days.

_**Dementors!**_

Dozens of them.

People were screaming and running about blindly knocking into each other. About twenty people had already been kissed; they sat, silent and motionless, staring at nothing. Others were kneeling on the floor their hands tight over their ears as they tried, futilely, to silence the screams within their heads.

Harry's attention however was on the few people who were staring in revulsion at the towering hooded creatures as they moved among the crowd. If they could see the Dementors then that meant they were not Muggles.

Never before had Harry felt as powerless as he did at that precise moment nor had he missed his wand as much as he did now. Without his wand Harry could not summon his patronus. Prongs could not help him if he could not cast the spell.

He needed a wand and he needed one now!

Tonks was nowhere to be seen but a grey-haired man with thick horn-rimmed glasses was staring as a Dementor approached him. Harry moved towards them and held out his hand, he spoke the incantation without hope of success.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

It sort of worked. A silver cloud formed around Harry's hand but did not want to leave contact with his skin.

In irritation and annoyance Harry motioned his hand as if to shake off the cloud. At once the cloud formed a tight cohesive ball like silver fire and flew straight at the Dementor. When it made contact it clung to the creature like an enveloping and suffocating mass!

The Dementor's familiar rattling sound changed, Harry could make out pleading screams not from inside his head but coming from the Dementor itself.

The creature turned to face Harry, its arms outstretched but its head was moving from side-to-side. Now it was grasping its own head and the screams coming from it were growing louder and louder.

Next the head was thrown back as if it was suffering indescribable agony. It's shapeless maw of a mouth opened wide as the screaming reached a deafening crescendo as hundreds of tiny points of light poured skywards from the mouth. The Dementor seemed to deflate as more and more of the lights – _were they the souls of those consumed by this vile creature? _– poured forth. At last the Dementor seemed to lose hold of its own existence and it exploded in a cloud of minute particles of rotting flesh accompanied by a heavy odour of brimstone.

It was gone!

Harry instinctively turned to confront the next Dementor but not wishing to share the fate of their fellow, the remainder were moving rapidly away from him, out through the open Courthouse doors and away.

Harry's exhaustion caught up with him, he fell back until he made contact with the wall and slid bonelessly to the floor. He sat there staring fixedly in front of him, his eyes unfocussed. He looked as though he too had been kissed.

"_Harry! HARRY!" _Came Tonks urgent summons. "HARRY!" At the third calling of his name Harry slowly turned his head. Tonks had raised her hand to slap Harry round the face but at that instant he realised what she was about to do and with the instincts born of his Quidditch training, reached out and grasped her wrist.

"Thank Merlin!" she exclaimed. "I thought for a minute…" She left her sentence unfinished. "Can you stand?" Harry nodded his confirmation and she helped him to his feet.

"What the hell just happened? I was sitting going over my notes before coming down to talk to you when suddenly the temperature dropped. All I could hear was screaming then nothing. When I woke up I could still hear screaming but it was outside not inside my head. I still felt cold though but I could see Dementors pouring out of the Courtroom."

"_Chocolate!" _Harry muttered at last. "Everyone should have some. It helps, it really helps!"

"Harry, listen, I've had to call in the Aurors – there's no way I can cope here on my own. The Ministry will be sending in a Task Force to clean up this mess."

Harry nodded his understanding. Aurors meant he was likely to be arrested all over again.

Could things get any worse?

The Courtroom doors opened once more and a group of 6 men and women wearing uniforms came in and moved among the witnesses to the Dementor attack. As they approached each individual a quiet word was spoken, then each man or woman stopped in their tracks.

Once all the muggle witnesses were" frozen" more Ministry officials, fore that was who Harry assumed they must be, began to arrive by apparition. Harry heard the familiar "popping" sound as scarlet-robed Aurors materialised in their midst.

Harry looked up as the familiar figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared before him. Despite recent events Harry was able to remember to re-act as though he were a complete stranger and not a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Tonks resumed her normal appearance but now dressed in her Auror's robes.

"Officer Shacklebolt, I await your instructions." She said standing to attention.

"Very good Tonks. I order you to take Potter here to a secure location to await interrogation." From his robe pocket he produced what looked like ordinary muggle handcuffs.

"Not again!" thought Harry.

Tonks took the handcuffs, opened them, placed one around her own left wrist and as the other clicked around Harry's right wrist he felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind his navel. All other senses overwhelmed in a whirlwind of sound and colour as the portkey activated.

Harry and Tonks slammed into one another as they reached their destination. Harry gave an involuntary gasp of agony as one of Tonks elbows hit his not yet healed ribs, dark patches appeared at the edge of his field of vision as he fell backwards dragging Tonks down on top of him. An audible crack was heard as Harry's ribs gave way once more; the darkness became complete as Harry slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Sorry to everyone who thought I'd poisoned poor Harry, instead it was something much worse. Glad to receive your reviews; it is very gratifying to know how many people are following my story set in JKR's wonderful world. 


	20. Detention with a difference

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

Thank you once more for your reviews, especially Melindaleo and Dianne. This week's chapter is a quiet interlude as Harry gets a chance to relax as he is among friends at last!

**Chapter 20 : Detention with a difference**

_He was running, running, running! _

_Couldn't afford to stop. _

_They were after him. _

_He was in the maze from the third task and Draco Malfoy's voice was loud in his head. _

"_I said I was going to make you pay, Potter. You can't land my father in jail and think you can get away with it."_

_The pathway split into two, Harry took the left path and Malfoy took the right. _

" _Good! I stand a better chance now." Thought Harry but as he passed another path he heard Malfoy's gleeful cackle at the same moment as he toppled long and hard landing painfully on his poor abused ribs._

"_Trip jinx Potter!"_

_Crabbe, Goyle and the other Slytherins turned into Harry's path and their slow reactions caused them to land on top of him in a heap._

_He couldn't move! He couldn't breathe! He tossed and turned his head but had about two tons of brainless Slytherins pinning him to the ground._

"_Get off me!" Harry wheezed painfully._

_-zzz-_

"Get off!" Harry wheezed a second time.

"Open your eyes Harry!"

The voice was commandingly insistent. "Open your eyes. You are quite safe."

Slowly, reluctantly, Harry obeyed.

The face before his belonged not to a pointy-faced Slytherin but to Madame Pomfrey. For a split second Harry thought he was back at Hogwarts but the kindly face of his school nurse was replaced by Tonks, concern and guilt written plain for all to see on her unusually unsmiling face.

"Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry. I landed right on top of you!" In her distraught state Tonks made as if she was going to grab Harry but Madame Pomfrey, thankfully, stopped her from making a bad situation worse.

"Don't worry. I'm fine, really." Harry managed through clenched teeth.

"Now you let me be the judge of that young man. Your job is to do exactly what you're told, when you're told. Do that and I'll have you fit in no time!" These words from Madame Pomfrey were so familiar, after all she used them almost like a personal mantra that Harry knew that physically at least he was in good hands.

"Yes Ma'am!" Harry said meekly before another bout of painful coughing wracked his body.

Madame Pomfrey got to work treating Harry's wounds. She vanished the dressings applied to Harry's ribs by the hospital, tut-tutting all the while about primitive muggle medicine.

When she saw the small incision where the chest drain had been inserted she gave an exclamation of "Butchers! What on earth did they think they were doing?"

"The Doctors said I had two broken ribs and a punctured lung, as well as a concussion. But I felt as though I had been run over by a herd of rampaging hippogriffs!" said Harry quietly.

"It looks like you were too! What did cause these injuries?" queried the nurse.

"Well I don't remember too much but I think I got hit by a lorry."

"A lorry? What's a lorry?" questioned Madame Pomfrey.

"Oh, sorry. It's about the size of the Knight Bus but it carries goods instead of people. I overheard the Doctors saying that most of the damage was done by the front bumper and that I was lucky that I got off as lightly as I did. I also had an allergic reaction to some of the pain relief they gave me. They seemed more worried about that than my ribs and head." All this talking was making Harry very sleepy and he had to concentrate hard on the nurse's reply.

"Allergic reaction. Great Merlin a first year Healer knows the basic detection charm for that. And they think witchcraft is primitive!"

While this conversation had been going on Madame Pomfrey had been casting numerous charms on Harry and using her wand in a variety of ways to tell her how he really was – and he most definitely was not "fine!"

"Three broken ribs – all fixed now but I want at least four hours for that boneset to do it's job properly. Yes, you definitely had a concussion – there's a little bone bruising too at the top of your spine and base of your skull. You also have bruising to your right kidney, and your liver and spleen show signs of recent trauma too. Your pancreas is showing evidence of the reaction to their potions – allergic reaction indeed! Never heard the like. It will take a couple of days but you should be up and around again in no time. That is if you do as you are told and stay in bed!"

"Yes Ma'am." Acknowledged Harry wearily.

"Now Harry, do you feel up to a _short_ visit from Tonks? The dear child means well but she can be a bit …" The nurses voice trailed off.

"Accident prone?" prompted Harry.

"I lost count of how many times I had her in the hospital wing. Up until your arrival at Hogwarts, she held the record for the most number of days spent in my care. I even began to think she'd end up as a Healer as she learned as much from me as she did in her Defence lessons. I still can't believe she's an Auror! With her track record too."

Madam Pomfrey was still muttering away to herself as she left the room and held the door ajar for Tonks to enter.

"Can I come in?" came the timid voice. Harry found it hard to believe it was the same person who had projected herself so confidently at his trial.

"Sure Tonks. It's good to see you are OK after what happened." Said Harry.

"You're looking heaps better, Harry. Madam Pomfrey's magic eh? Works wonders." Said Tonks.

"Soon be as good as new." Harry looked around the room. "Tonks, where am I? I expected to be taken to the Ministry of Magic to a holding cell of he Magical Law Enforcement Squad at least but this …?" Harry shook his head in puzzlement.

The bed he was in was a four-poster not dissimilar to the beds in Gryffindor Tower. There was electric lighting but candles and oil lamps as well. The wallpaper was printed with a trellis that had honeysuckle and roses climbing all over. Harry could smell the flowers and even hear the buzz of a bee as it flew from flower to flower.

The furniture was all very old and, like the bed, made of good English oak. One side of the room had a huge but simple stone fireplace with a banked down fire in its grate.

"Dumbledore thought we'd better get you somewhere completely safe and we couldn't be sure that would apply at any of the Ministry holding facilities. So we brought you here." Said Tonks as though that explained everything.

"But where is here? This isn't The Burrow or Grimmauld Place. I don't recognise it at all." Stated Harry.

"Actually Harry we're only about seven miles from the hospital you were in. This is Eleanor Cantwell's home in Whittlestone. When Eleanor told Dumbledore where you were she suggested you came here to recover. We had thought that wouldn't be until your trial had been concluded though." Said Tonks.

"Now it never will be. I'll still be wanted in the muggle world." Moaned Harry.

"I wouldn't worry too much about that right now Harry. Everyone present in that Courtroom – well those that weren't kissed at least – had their memories modified by the Ministry. But Dumbledore will be by presently to fill you in. You rest for now. We'll bring you something to eat when you wake. Madame Pomfrey says you need to take all of this dreamless sleep potion and it will do the job of healing you while you sleep."

Harry obediently drank the purple potion and felt the familiar sensation of his eyelids closing almost at once. He knew he needed to sleep but he also desperately wanted to reassure Ginny that he was OK.

When he awoke the following morning Harry found that beside his bed was a tray of breakfast and a mug of tea. Stay-warm charms had been placed on the cooked food and drink so Harry knew he didn't have to rush to eat. Truth was that Dreamless Sleep Potion usually left Harry with a somewhat queasy stomach and a very 'furry' tongue.

He'd been shown where the bathroom was the night before so that was Harry's first stop of the morning.

On his way back to his bed Harry noticed an elegant wooden writing chest sitting on top of a table by the window. The chest was open and quills, ink and parchment clearly visible. Hermione was always trying to get both Harry and Ron to write notes down when they needed to get thoughts in some kind of order so, as he had done back in the hospital, Harry made out a new 'to-do' list.

Tell Dumbledore _everything!_

Harry still wasn't sure he fully trusted his Headmaster yet but he had spent enough time trying to sort things out himself and he'd made a right 'pigs ear' of things. He needed help and advice from others – he just didn't promise himself or anyone else for that matter that he would automatically take the advice when it was given.

Find out what has happened to Sam.

Now more than ever, Harry was convinced he was being held by Voldemort. Last June Voldemort had placed images of Sirius being tortured in Harry's mind, they had been false of course but Harry didn't know that at the time. Well Harry knew for certain that Voldemort _did_ have Sam, so the images this time would be real ones and probably stronger for that.

Find the omnioculars for the Order to use against the Death Eaters.

Last time Harry had them they'd been in his rucksack. Were they safe and sound? He didn't remember seeing them at the hospital so did the Police have them? Was the recording intact or had some inept Policeman wiped it?

His wand. It was so long since he'd seen his wand, was it safe or had Voldemort snapped it in two by now? Considering Voldemort must know by now that Harry and his wands were brothers, it seemed like a very logical thing to do. Harry only hoped Voldemort had a good reason to keep it.

Prove his innocence!

a: to the Muggles

b:to the Magical community.

6.Talk to Ginny – _PROPERLY!_

Face to face!… and kiss her?

Harry was still sitting writing out his list when the door quietly opened and Tonks poked her head round to peer in.

"Well I must say you look 100 times better than you did last night!"

"Madame Pomfrey and her dreamless sleep potion strikes again!" Quipped Harry with a silly grin on his face.

"Good to see you're getting a sense of humour back too – perhaps that's just a side-effect though?" Tonks screwed up her brow in mock puzzlement.

Harry threw a screwed up scrap of parchment at Tonks who ducked to avoid being hit. It was only then that Harry realised that Tonks was looking very un-Tonkslike – her hair was long and the same wonderful red as Ginny and once more looked like an older Weasley sister or perhaps as Molly had done in her youth.

Whichever, Harry decided he definitely found redheads very attractive – female red heads that is!

Harry knew his Mum had had red-hair, he had pictures of both his parents given by Hagrid at the end of his first year at Hogwarts. He'd also seen her hair for himself when he entered Snape's pensieve. His mind had just turned to wondering if there might be a long-forgotten connection between his Mum and the Weasleys when Mrs. Weasley herself entered the room.

"How are you feeling Harry dear?" There was the familiar lock of concern on Molly's face "I must say you do look a lot better but what's this?" She was looking at the untouched breakfast tray. Harry had the good grace to look properly chastised.

"Sorry! It's just that I had so many thoughts in my mind when I awoke that I thought it best to note some of them down while they were fresh. So much has happened – it's been so hard …!" Harry found that his throat had tightened up and words would not come. He could feel tears filling his eyes. He fought for control but he found it wrested from him.

As she had done at the end of his fourth year after the traumatic Third Task, Molly Weasley opened her arms as she had opened her heart. She embraced Harry as one of her own and he in turn for the first time in his life hugged this Mother as if she were his own.

Truly, at that moment, a son was being held by his mother.

Harry was only dimly aware of Tonks silently leaving the room as a great damn burst within him and he wept. Great heart-wrenching sobs broke from him, from deep within his soul. He wept for all the times in his childhood where he held the tears in check knowing his tears would never be dried by a loving hand. Not while he was with the Dursleys at any rate. Harry wept also for all the times he'd been rejected and belittled by those who should have cared for and natured him.

The two stood in the bedroom of Eleanor Cantwell's home and shared all these hurts and Harry felt a cleansing, a healing, a cathartic release that only a mother could bring.

Eventually the sobs subsided and the two separated, Harry felt guilty when he looked into Molly's face and saw that she too had been crying; she instinctively knew what he was feeling and immediately put his mind at east albeit with a gentle rebuke.

"Don't you go worrying over me now Harry, you've done nothing to be ashamed of or feel guilty for. These tears are natures raindrops that let the flowers of love grow in our hearts. My old Mum used to say that and she was right. You're a part of my family just as much as any of the others. Don't forget that."

"Ginny told me about when the Aurors came to The Burrow looking for me. I'm so sorry for all the trouble they caused and thanks for believing in me."

"Shush now! It was nothing. Bill'll be so relieved to know it wasn't you that … you know." Said Mrs. Weasley.

"Ginny said Bill had been looking for me on Sirius' old bike." Harry asked looking for confirmation.

"That he had. Horrible noisy thing – good job he didn't know how to make it fly though. It's been put back in storage thank goodness."

At that moment footsteps could be hears ascending the wooden uncarpeted staircase. A few seconds later the bedroom door opened to reveal Madam Pomfrey.

Instantly the nurse took in Harry's condition and noted the tear-stained faces of Molly and Harry. No comment was made but a smile lifted the corners of her mouth in mute understanding.

"Morning Poppy." Said Mrs. Weasley.

"Molly." Came the nurse's brief reply.

Mrs. Weasley continued. "Harry here has not long been awake and hasn't yet had time to eat. I placed a 'stay-warm' charm on the food so there'll be no need to rush."

"Good thinking." Said the nurse before she turned to her patient. "Right then Harry, let's have a good look at you."

To spare Harry's blushes, Molly made a hasty retreat downstairs while the nurse tut-tutted her way through yet another assessment of the physical condition of one Harry James Potter.


	21. Debriefing

**Chapter 21 : Debriefing**

One week later a group of people sat chatting amiably in the magically enlarged sitting room of Eleanor Cantwell. The room's occupants had one sole purpose in mind, the ultimate demise of the despised self-titled Lord Voldemort, otherwise known as Tom Riddle, and they were all members of The Order of the Phoenix.

Today's meeting was to gather together all the information that had been gathered by members following Harry's detailed debriefing by Dumbledore and Snape, overseen by Moody and Shacklebolt.

Harry had been extremely nervous and anxious when Dumbledore had suggested Snape use legilimency to access Harry's connective images to the Dark Lord. His shared 'dreams' or whatever they were, with Ginny had proved to have a rather unexpected but definitely beneficial side effect. Ginny was able to help Harry protect thoughts that he wanted to keep private and Harry definitely wanted to keep those times as private as possible.

Each time Snape said 'legilimens' as he faced Harry, the first image that came to mind was Ginny's smiling face. It was such a beautiful smiling face that Harry focussed on that to the exclusion of all else.

It was ironic that now Snape was getting irate _because_ Harry could block him so easily.

"Stop behaving like a lovesick puppy Potter. You must focus on the times you shared thoughts with the Dark Lord. How else am I to assess what you saw and experienced?" said Snape.

Was it Harry's imagination or was Dumbledore sniggering into his handkerchief, trying to hide his amusement at the Potions Master's increasingly frustrated efforts to enter Harry's mind?

Moody came to the rescue at that point. "Got another idea that might prove to more useful than legilimency, Snape." He turned to his host and hollered "Ellie, have you still got that Pensieve I brought you back from Luxor in '52?"

Eleanor Cantwell's firm voice responded "Naturally. I may not choose to use it that often but it has proved invaluable a time or two. What have you in mind Alastor?"

"Thought we might get Potter here to use it so we can all see what he saw. Verbal recollection's all well and good but there may be something – or someone – that we might recognise that Potter may not even be aware of." Said Moody succinctly.

The others present all nodded their acknowledgement of this suggestion. Eleanor left the room and returned a few minutes later. This Pensieve was much larger than Dumbledore's and was made of an opalescent pale green glass that seemed to glow from within. A number of beasts were etched into its wide rim. At one time Harry would have assumed them all to be mythical but now he knew better.

Moulded and carved in the centre of the shallow dish was a single eye contained within a triangle and as Harry stared at it, the eye blinked! Dumbledore gave an amused chuckle this time, as did Eleanor, Tonks and Moody.

"Ah. I see you have noticed the eye Harry!" said Eleanor.

_Talk about stating the obvious! _Thought Harry but he said nothing he just nodded.

"This Pensieve, Harry, can 'see' if the memory it contains is a true memory or if it has somehow been corrupted, planted or modified. This type of Pensieve is extremely rare and highly prized. Occasionally they are used in Courts of Law as a last resort in determining truth in cases where verbal evidence is either impossible to obtain or where a Capital Offence has been committed."

"It's a shame it wasn't available when Sirius was sent to Azkaban then." Harry commented.

"Just so Harry" came Kingsley's response.

"Now Harry, I would like you to simply sit back, relax and focus first of all on the time immediately after you entered the shop and were handed the silver sickle." As he spoke Dumbledore stood and removed his wand from his robes. Harry was aware of the light contact of the wand tip to his left temple.

"You may find that closing your eyes will help you to concentrate better."

Harry did so and was immediately aware of a slight tingle at the point of contact and could see the events unfolding in his mind's eye.

It took Dumbledore almost two hours to 'Harvest' all of Harry's memories at the end of which Harry felt physically and emotionally drained.

Molly had been watching Harry like a hawk the whole time and as he slumped back in the chair, Molly rushed over to his side and placed her hand on his forehead.

"Bed!" Her tone brooked no argument. Harry obediently stood and followed her up the stairs. "Strip off and get into bed properly. You'll rest much better if you do. I'll have some lunch ready for when you wake." Molly left the room and quietly shut the door. As soon as Harry's head touched the pillow he was asleep.

-zzz-

_Half awake and half asleep Harry peered through slitted eyelids, everything blurred as he had removed his glasses; all he could see was a gently smiling face and a curtain of red-gold hair. _

_Who was it?_

_It was Ginny… but was it?_

_Her eyes, they were green like his! Not Ginny then but … his mother?_

_No! Harry looked again – the eyes were no longer green they were a deep warm brown … it was Mrs. Weasley … but it was a younger – not present day – Mrs. Weasley!_

_Yet again the figure changed, the hair changed became shorter and turned bright bubblegum pink!_

_Harry closed his eyes tight. His head felt like it was bursting so many images floating through his mind._

_Now he was lying down on that hard table once more, the mirror suspended over him; Harry had no choice, he had to open his eyes and looked straight up into the glass._

_The face looked like his face. The scar was his scar but the eyes …? They were blood red and slitted like a cats and were staring straight back at him. _

_The face smiled. A horrible feral smile and broke into a chilling maniacal laugh._

_The laugh grew louder and louder until it drowned out all other sounds._

"Harry! HARRY! Open your eyes…

-zzz-

"No! NO! Leave me alone! It's not time!"

Two strong hands gripped Harry by the shoulders and gently but firmly shook him to consciousness.

Harry opened his eyes back to the real world and looked into the face of Remus Lupin.

"Harry! Are you OK?"

"Don't know. Head hurts! Feels like it's been split open! He was in my head!" There was no need for Harry to explain who he meant by "He".

"Madam Pomfrey said you might have trouble sleeping after this morning. Here, drink this." Remus handed Harry a small glass containing a measure of green/blue potion. "It's only Madam Pomfrey's special headache cure, that's all." Harry nodded and drank it in one.

"It might make you feel a little drunk but it will take the pain away in no time. Once it has worked, come down to the kitchen, there's someone there who's dying to see you."

Harry had a puzzled expression on his face, the obvious question of 'who is it?' left unspoken but understood all the same.

"You'll see who when you came down. Molly's got food ready for you as well."

As impatient as he was to find out just who was waiting downstairs to see him, Harry found that the headache cure made him move very sluggishly, indeed he felt that each step he took and each movement he made felt as though he were wading through a large bath of very sticky treacle!

Harry supposed the potion slowed down his system to help it recover from all his recent ordeals; it did make him feel odd though as his brain seemed to be working somewhat quicker than normal too. Indeed thoughts seemed to be running through his head so fast he found he had a great deal of difficulty keeping them in any order. He worried too that some important thoughts might be lost amidst the mass of trivia that was also being churned up.

He wondered whether this was a normal side effect of the potion or as a result of his use of the Pensieve and it was with this thought still in his mind that he pushed open the door to Eleanor's kitchen.

Harry had no chance to see who was waiting for him because as soon as he had crossed the threshold he found arms flung around his neck and a great quantity of Weasley-red hair flowing across his face.

"Harry! Oh, Harry!" was all he could hear amid the muffled sobs into his shoulder.

"Ginny. Don't…! I'm fine." Said Harry.

At her snort of disbelief Harry moved one hand up to gently move aside her hair so he could look at last into her eyes. "Really. I'm fine, especially now you're here with me!" Harry spoke in a low gentle whisper that only Ginny could hear. Finally a small smile crept on to her wonderful, although blotchy and tear-stained, face.

A pristine white handkerchief was proffered by a silent figure to one side of the still embraced couple.

The two teenagers looked up to see a room full of adults all with extremely soppy faces and knew they had all refrained from gurgling "Ahhh!" at the sight of two young people in the first throes of love.

All, that is, except for one.

Severus Snape stood to one side; he wore a look of profound distaste as though a cat had just vomited all over his favourite rug. He spoke with his customary curt manner.

"As Potter has finally awoken, can we please get to the business in hand or will this be yet another day wasted pandering to this boy's needs? He spat the last word out with venom.

Harry and Ginny parted only reluctantly and sat at two vacant places at the large refectory table in the middle of the room.

Molly Weasley however, threw the black-robed potions master a look as intense as any Voldemort could give.

"YOU" she spat "will have to wait until this YOUNG MAN's physical needs are met first and that means food. If you wish you can stand there like some carrion crow waiting for scraps at the table, or you can adjourn to the sitting room and leave Harry to eat his meal in peace. Heaven knows he's had little enough of that!"

Without a word Snape glared back, hard black eyes meeting Molly's. He turned and with a somewhat theatrical flourish of his robes he swept from the room. With much scraping of chairs everyone else stood and, somewhat chastened, left in Snape's wake.

-o-O-o-

It was many hours later that Eleanor finally closed the door on the last of her numerous guests. The only ones left were Harry, as he was not yet fit to travel in Madam Pomfrey's expert opinion, and surprisingly Alastor – Mad-Eye – Moody.

"Do you know I honestly cannot remember when this old house has had quite so many people in it at the one time! So much for my quiet retirement!" These words, so heartfelt, were spoken by Eleanor as she sat wearily in a huge and extremely comfortable wing-backed armchair in front of the fireplace and placed her feet on a well-padded – and well-used – footstool after kicking off her shoes.

The companion to her chair, on the other side of the fireplace, was occupied by Moody; he looked very much at home and at peace, a rare sight indeed.

"Your usual Alastor?" queried Eleanor and at the minutest nod of his head Eleanor had conjured a glass of Moody's favourite cognac.

"And you?" queried Moody.

"A nice mug of hot chocolate, I think." Said Eleanor in a gentle and somewhat sleepy voice. Instantly a steaming mug appeared on a spindle-legged table to her left but as she raised it to her lips she added "Mmm! A nice touch, thank you."

"I thought you'd appreciate a shot of brandy in it. Just to help you sleep of course."

"Of course! Although I don't think I'll have much trouble after one of the longest and busiest weeks I've had in years!"

"Don't give me that. Don't think I don't know you've been keeping a close watch on what's going on. 'Reckon your network is as good as Dumbledore's any day."

This interesting conversation was going on while Harry lay, half-asleep, on a long comfortable sofa facing the fire. A colourful hand-knitted blanket had been laid over him and his head was on a big patchwork cushion. The two voices like a radio in the background of Harry's thoughts. He'd tried to relax and get his jumble of images and memories into some kind of order but it was so hard to do. If only Hermione were here. She'd help him he knew, probably write everything down and then colour code her notes. He smiled to himself as he imaged her saying…

"_There you are Harry. This folder is for events that occurred in first year; then this one if for second year and so on. Highlights I've marked in green. Voldemort's thoughts – oh Ron do give over – are in Red Bold ink. Theories are in Yellow…."_

Harry's eyelids closed and he slept at last.

"What the?" Harry, startled, looked up to find what he thought was Crookshanks kneading his stomach, obviously wanting to settle on a nice warm Harry-shaped cushion for a doze in the cosy room. The fire had burned low in the hearth and a soft "Oh!" in a high-pitched voice made Harry turn his head. He just caught a brief glimpse of a house-elf in miniature wizards' robes clearing away the dirty glass and mug before a soft 'pop' announced her departure.

The large ginger cat jumped indignantly from Harry, obviously annoyed that he wouldn't sit still so he could be used as a convenient cat-bed and curled up on the hearthrug.

Harry sat up and stretched, he had become stiff while he had slept in an obviously awkward position on the couch. He rolled his head gingerly on his neck trying to find his glasses in the light of the dying fire. He spotted them on the table that sat beside Eleanor's chair and placed them back on his face. Harry noticed that the ornate bookcase that covered one end of the room had the middle section pulled forward and was obviously a concealed door. The firelight only reached a short way into the opening but from it was coming the unmistakable sounds of two people deep in conversation.

A simple brass candlestick with a snuffer hooked to it, stood to one side of the opening atop a roll-top desk. Harry lifted it and a flame instantly sprang to life. Holding his breath Harry stepped through the opening and saw a flight of steep stone steps descending into the recesses below the house. Harry had been told by Eleanor that her home was over 400 years old in parts and that her family had lived here the whole time. "Hill House" obviously had more than its share of secrets.

Harry's sock-clad feel made no noise as he descended, the sound of voices, however, became louder the lower he went. Soon he could make out what was being said.

"… has no idea of course. I really don't see why Albus has kept him in the dark for so long. He must learn of his ancestry sooner or later and I firmly believe he would gain much more than he would loose." Said Eleanor.

"Ellie, Harry's been through so much this last two years…" came Moody's unmistakable voice.

"He's not the only one Alastor. When I think of what Crouch did to you…"

"Steady on old girl. I'm much stronger than I look and so is Harry. Do you think any old fifth-year student could have dealt with everything Harry had to?"

"No of course not. But all the same…"

"He's not a child anymore Ellie. The thing's he's seen …"

"… and done! Yes, I know Alastor. I saw his memory of his duel with Bellatrix. Do you honestly think Harry is aware not of everything he's done but of the possible consequences of these actions?" asked Eleanor fearfully.

"That I can't possibly say. What I can say is that if _I'd_ known, then by Merlin's Beard, I'd probably make the same choices not different ones, even knowing how much pain I'd be saving myself. I believe Harry is strong enough to make the sacrifices necessary for the good of all and I think knowing how much pain it will cause him will not dissuade him from making the right choices when the time comes.

Moody continued: "As I said, Ellie, he's strong but he's not inflexible; he may bend a little – _a lot even_ – but his purpose and aim will be straight and true. And don't forget, he won't be alone. She'll be always at his side."

"Always. But _that_ may be his biggest trial! So near and yet so far. Within his arm's reach but untouchable. Does she know?" Asked Eleanor.

* * *

A/N : Hope this chapter pleases gaul1 and Melindaleo as it incorporates both a Harry/Ginny moment (even though its very brief)and a protective Molly.


	22. Word to the wise

**Chapter 22 : Word to the wise**

At that moment the large ginger cat pushed past Harry's legs making him jolt the candlestick in his hand. The snuffer jangled, sounding like a gong in the silent and echoey staircase.

"Potter, come on down here. There's no point in you skulking on the stairs." Moody's magical eye could see through the wall so he knew there was no point in trying to pretend not to have heard their dialogue.

"Who is 'she'?" Harry asked bluntly. Moody smiled at his forthright question; he seemed to appreciate the attack-is-the-best-defence approach Harry had adopted.

"I wondered when you'd start asking the questions. Fed up being interrogated and want to start getting some answers instead eh?" asked Moody.

Harry stood leaning against the wall, he was acutely aware of the cold seeping into his almost bare feet. Eleanor noticed him place one foot atop the other and the fact that he wore no shoes upon his feet.

"Let's go back upstairs, it's freezing down here and you've no shoes on. If you get a chill Madame Pomfrey will be after my blood! Not to mention what Molly'd do."

Harry led the way back up the stone stairway and he was sure he heard an incantation being spoken by Eleanor after he'd left the cellar.

Moody had livened up the fire that cast a warm glow over the room once more. "Use Eleanor's chair Potter and warm your feet up. Can't stand having cold feet myself. Comes from spending too much time in bloody mud-filled trenches in my youth. I'll tell you about it some day but I feel you'd rather talk about other matters eh?"

Harry say down in the warm enveloping chair and put his feet up on the footstool.

"Do the job properly Harry! Get those socks off and get some air to your skin" insisted Eleanor

"No. They're fine really," protested Harry but Eleanor was having none of it. With a quick tug both socks were removed and Harry's feet were open to view.

"Good God boy! Why haven't they been attended to? How come the hospital didn't treat them or Poppy?" Moody was clearly outraged.

"Didn't want to make a fuss. They're alright honestly!" Harry was acutely embarrassed and didn't really understand why.

"Potter, I said I wasn't going to talk about bloody mud-filled trenches, well seeing them…" Moody pointed to Harry's bare and obviously infected feet "…has changed my mind. Do you realise what you've been doing? No? Didn't think so!" exclaimed Moody as he settled himself in the chair opposite Harry.

Harry's feet were scarred from the numerous cuts they'd received during the escape from Malfoy Manor but the wounds were edged with yellow and green pus-filled swellings. Two of the toes on his right foot were complete black and the nail of his big-toe was almost completely off.

"You'll be damned lucky if you don't end up losing toes judging by their colour and condition and I know what I'm talking about boy. How do you think I ended up with this?" Moody struck his wooden leg with the poker from the fire. The dull thud of metal on wood sent an odd chill through Harry who was being remarkably quiet the whole time.

"There's such a thing as sub-conscious self-delusion, Potter. Long winded name for what is in essence fooling yourself or turning a blind-eye to the truth." Moody could see that Harry's self-denial was kicking-in even as he spoke.

"Tell me what you know of pain, Potter?"

"What?" Harry was stumped by this odd question.

"PAIN! Pain, Potter! What is it? What purpose does it serve? Why do we experience it?"

"I don't know, sir." Harry felt like he was back in his first-ever potions lesson being asked impossible to answer questions.

"Don't you damn well 'Sir' me! I'm not your teacher and this isn't Hogwarts." Moody took a sip of the glass of cognac that had appeared at his elbow. Eleanor had made herself scarce and left the two men alone.

"Pain isn't something nasty to be feared of itself. It is something to be relished and appreciated," continued Moody.

Harry looked understandably confused at this sentiment – he'd never heard anything like it.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm no masochist – don't go in for that kind of thing myself – but what I do say is that without pain we wouldn't live long."

While Moody spoke Harry was staring transfixed at the flames in the hearth. "What would happen, Harry, if you put your hand on those logs?" Moody's use of his first-name made Harry raise his gaze from the embers for the first time in minutes.

"First the outer layer of skin starts to heat up, you feel pain and you remove your hand. Damage is minimalised, your hand heals, and you survive. Now imagine if you were not able to feel pain. Again the outer layer heats up, this time the flames keep going and eventually your whole body would be destroyed."

Harry looked up as Moody continued. "Now do you see? Pain is there to let us know we are hurt and need to heal. Unfortunately wizards also have the ability to self-delude, that is they can convince themselves that they feel no pain even when they do. Powerful wizards – and make no mistake _you_ are indeed powerful Harry – can go one step better and can cast a sub-conscious '_ego-protectum_' spell on themselves. To the normal naked eye there are no physical wounds, therefore there is no pain and they go on with their lives. But the damage is real! Nerve endings are torn, flesh can be ripped apart but appear whole. One big drawback, some types of bacteria are immune to magic. An open wound to a micro-organism is a feast day and infection will set in." Moody sat back and had another sip of his drink and let his words sink into Harry's brain.

"Is that what happened to you?" asked Harry. He was beginning to understand.

"Yup! During Voldemort's first reign of terror, before your first defeat –" Harry gave a small snort of derision but Moody ignored it. "I was with the Longbottoms on the trail of Evan Rosier. Got hit by a stray curse and it tore a chunk out of my nose. Frank and Alice wanted to rush me to St.Mungo's when the saw the bloody mess I was in but I refused. Cast a few field healing charms and made them think all was well. Ten days it took us to bring him down. Didn't mean for him to die but a Reductor curse hit the side of a house and a lump of masonry crushed his skull like an egg."

At the vivid picture Moody had painted Harry visibly winced.

"When they finally got me to a Healer, the charm was removed – wasn't even aware I'd cast it, but the damage was done. I was lucky the Healer's were able to heal me as well as they did."

"Is that when you lost your eye too?" asked Harry.

"No that was something else altogether." It was obvious Moody wasn't going to elaborate as he changed tack – slightly. "Pain is useful. Don't ever ignore it. Listen to the message it sends and take heed."

Harry nodded, still not certain exactly what Moody was getting at.

"Sirius was a good man who had been sorely wronged. Right now you are feeling the pain of his loss, it's just as real as the pain from your feet or your ribs. There are no Madame Pomfrey' s that can apply a salve or dispense a potion to take away the pain felt at the loss of a loved-one. The only things that help is to talk, share, remember, scream – yes and get angry too!"

Harry's eyes had filled with tears as Moody talked about Sirius. He still felt the pain acutely and was confused by his anger at Sirius even through his own feelings of guilt and his belief that it was all his, Harry's fault.

"Use that anger, let it out, if you don't then like a fire it will consume you."

Harry finally began to see what made this man so admired by Mr. Weasley. Beneath the gruff and scarred exterior lay a man of great understanding and compassion.

"And now, if you don't get up to bed soon Molly Weasley will be consuming me! I swear that woman is part sabre-tooth tiger!" exclaimed Moody as he finished his cognac. "She and Dumbledore will be here at 9.30 as they have some things that need to be discussed. I'll get Poppy Pomfrey to take a look at those feet tomorrow too. Sleep well Potter."

With that Harry returned to his bed. As Harry lay his head down he tried as hard as he had ever done to clear his mind as Snape had frequently told him to do. It was extremely hard to clear so many jumbled thoughts.

After a couple of hours of tossing and turning, Harry decided he should try another tactic.

He got out of bed and started to pace up and down but found it was too painful. Now he had consciously removed his self-deluding charm on his feet, the reality of their condition had kicked-in in full measure.

The next tactic required Harry to get into a nice cool bed.

The Dursleys had never given Harry much in the way of bedding in his cupboard under the stairs and, truth be told, it tended to be too warm rather than too cool. At Hogwarts the dormitories tended to be rather draughty. The bed curtains and pre-warmed bedding meant a cosy night's sleep but Harry found he often slept on top of – rather than in – the bed. Harry also had to admit that his nocturnal thoughts of Ginny also served to "raise his temperature" in bed!

The bed refreshed, Harry climbed in and thought some more about Ginny. He supposed good thoughts and feelings were at least preferable to jumbled and chaotic ones.

Harry's thoughts of Ginny brought a calmness and tranquillity that he sorely needed and he drifted off to sleep a dreamless sleep at last.

The following morning Harry was still eating his breakfast when Dumbledore arrived.

"No need to rush, Harry. We have no timetable to stick to and what I have to tell you should really be told to Remus too."

Dumbledore turned to Eleanor who was sitting at the table sipping her tea and reading that morning's edition of The Daily Prophet. "Any news of when he'll be here?" queried Dumbledore.

"I expected him to be here by now. I haven't received any messages from him and I take it you've no idea then?" answered Eleanor.

"It's just not like him to keep us in the dark! I'm worried Eleanor," said Dumbledore "Voldemort's trying to recruit as many dark creatures to his cause as he can but Remus is strong. The full-moon is not for another eight days so he should be able to withstand anything Voldemort might throw at him while he is in his right mind."

This uncharacteristic candour, especially in front of Harry, somehow was more worrying than his usual evasiveness. Harry was somewhat surprised that he was included in the grown-ups conversation – surprised but pleased.

"What's happened to Remus?" Harry asked tentatively. He had difficulty using his one-time teacher's name but he could not keep calling him Professor Lupin.

"Harry, I will tell you what we know but please do bear in mind that Remus did what he did for a number of reasons and not all of them related to you," said Dumbledore in carefully even tones.

Now Harry was really worried.

Dumbledore continued, "After examining your memories in Eleanor's excellent Penseive, it was decided that recovering your wand was one of a number of tasks that needed to be tackled. From the available information, and not all of it came from you, it was decided that recovery of your wand was of vital importance. I need hardly tell you, Harry, of its connection to Voldemort. What you may not be aware of is that when brother wands are used in tandem then the effect of the spell or charm cast is not doubled, as one would suppose, but magnified ten-fold."

Harry gave a low whistle of appreciation before saying "And there was me worried he might snap it in two!"

"You see therefore the importance of recovery sooner rather than later. If Voldemort were to cast, for example, protective wards around Malfoy Manor, then they would be well nigh impregnable."

"But Professor, wouldn't the same be true if we got hold of Voldemort's wand? We could reinforce the wards at Hogwarts and everyone there would be so much safer." Harry was excited at the prospect of being able to better protect his friends for a change instead of putting them at increased risk.

"I don't know if you've heard, Professor, but …" Harry was almost reluctant to mention it "Fred and George Weasley make incredible fake wands. Do you think it possible that they could make a fake-wand good enough to fool Voldemort?"

To Harry's amazement Dumbledore chuckled.

"Well they do say that great minds think alike, Harry. Indeed not only were they able to duplicate Voldemort's wand quite accurately as to it's general appearance but they were skilful enough to be able to incorporate a few of my – ahem – _'special'_ modifications."

Harry's jaw dropped open at this announcement. Eleanor looked at him and said simply. "Do close your mouth, Harry dear, you look like a guppy."

Eleanor's comment snapped Harry's concentration back to Dumbledore's words.

"But what happened to Remus. Is he OK? I haven't 'seen' anything about him!" said Harry panic struck.

"Then perhaps this is one of those occasions where no news is good news," said Dumbledore. "Remember though Harry, it is still vital that you practice Occlumency before you sleep, no matter how desperately you want news of Remus. No doubt we will hear from Order members soon. For now though we must move on to other matters."

"Other matters Professor?" Harry looked confused at his Headmaster who seemed to have aged drastically since their return from the Ministry last June.

"Yes Harry, other matters. You no doubt recall that Sirius was your Godfather." Stated Dumbledore all too obviously to Harry's mind. Harry didn't speak but silently nodded his assent.

"Well, when your parents asked him to assume that role they were already aware that Voldemort was after them. Indeed, on no less than three occasions they had come into direct conflict with Voldemort. The last time an attempt was made to seize Hogwarts, your parents, Sirius, Remus, Peter Pettigrew, together with Frank and Alice Longbottom, the Prewett twins and other members of the Order fought bravely to dispel the Dark that threatened to consume all we hold dear," continued Dumbledore.

At that moment Eleanor and Alastor entered the room.

"Well as I was saying, Harry, your parents knew they were at extreme risk and although Sirius was at risk too, he agreed to become your Godfather and to take care of you should anything befall them. Dear Alice Longbottom, a room-mate of your mother and her closest friend, tried to dissuade them. After all Sirius was not exactly well known for being a good father figure, quite the reverse in fact, but he was overjoyed when he was asked to assume such a responsible role. Sirius did not hesitate to say yes. You and he were already close at the age of one and everyone – and I count myself among them – was astonished at the change in Sirius. He suddenly seemed to mature and grow into a much stronger man."

Harry just sat in silence cradling the, now empty, mug of tea in his hands, rolling it back and forth between his fingers. This was a side of Sirius and his parents that Harry had heard very little about. He absorbed the information like a dry sponge, drawing each drop deep within himself.

"I have no doubt, Harry, that the trust your parents vested in Sirius with regards your care, enabled him to survive the hell that is Azkaban. His love for you and your parents, and your love for him, gave him the strength to survive and a determination to escape. Without that love Sirius would have died long ago." Dumbledore finally stopped speaking for a moment and watched Harry's reaction avidly.

Harry hated thinking of Sirius' death and his self-loathing and anger built to an incredible level and suddenly the mug in his hands shattered to such an extent that it turned almost to dust. The Headmaster whispered a quiet 'Reparo' charm – but nothing happened, the mug's condition remained the same.

Eleanor's voice to one side said "Don't worry, Harry, it was just an old everyday mug, nothing special."

But as Harry looked back between his fingers, the mug flew back together again; it was as good as new. It reminded Harry of the cabinet in the Department of Mysteries shattering and then flying back together.

"Well, as it seems to be perfectly usable again, why don't I refill it? Albus, how about you?" Enquired Eleanor.

"Thank you Eleanor, I think I too would enjoy a nice cup of tea but let me." As he had done once before in Hagrid's hut, Dumbledore waved his wand and a tray laden with teapot, milk, sugar, cups etc., appeared and floated down to land gently on the kitchen table.

Eleanor leaned conspiratorially to Harry and in a stage whisper said, "always was one of Albus' favourite party tricks that one!" with a broad grin on her face. Harry felt the tension seep out of him as Eleanor added "Why don't we take this through to the parlour, it's much more comfortable than here?"

The three stood up, Dumbledore levitated the tray with a wave of his wand and followed Harry and Eleanor from the room.

Unseen to Harry, Moody encased the repaired mug in a glass jar and was removing it from the kitchen as carefully as an unexploded bomb!

-o-O-o-

It was many hours later and Harry felt as though a bomb really had dropped.

He was having a job trying to get his thoughts and feelings around the news he had been given. In the end Dumbledore asked Harry if he wanted anything as he looked so pale and drawn.

Harry blurted out only one word.

"Hermione!"

Dumbledore looked as puzzled as Harry at first then Eleanor exclaimed clapping her hands "an absolutely splendid suggestion. Albus, no doubt arrangements could be made for her to come here?"

"Yes, yes! An excellent idea." Agreed Dumbledore.

"Harry, do you know Hermione's 'phone number?" asked Eleanor, the excitement evident in her voice.

"'Phone?" Harry looked puzzled.

"Good Lord, boy, have you not noticed that this house electricity and a telephone?" Eleanor said as though she were stating the obvious, which she was.

"Oh! Of course, I hadn't …" Harry's concentration had vanished and he just couldn't think.

"Hermione's number? Do you know her number?" Eleanor was getting increasingly frustrated.

"Er. No, sorry! I gave her mine once but I don't remember if she ever gave me hers." Said Harry eventually.

"Not to worry. I'll ring Jenny. She'll be able to ring the Grangers. Dentist's you said they were if I recall."

Harry nodded once more as Eleanor left the room.

"I can't recall seeing Eleanor so keen to meet someone as she is to meet Hermione Granger." This comment came from Alastor Moody who had just re-entered the room. "Do you know Harry, we used to call her a know-it-all when we were at Hogwarts. Used to drive the teachers mad. I swear she could have passed her NEWTS in third year if she'd been given the chance!"

"Were you two at school together then?" asked Harry tiredly. His eyelids were drooping; he was barely awake.

"They certainly were. Alastor, Eleanor, Harwin Prewett – Molly Weasley's father, and Jemima Ferguson, your paternal grandmother, were all at school together. You could say" said Dumbledore with a distinct twinkle in his eyes, "that they were the First Edition of the Marauders."

Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought. He'd heard very little about his wizarding family and was understandably eager to hear more. Unfortunately he was also still recovering physically and despite his attempt to stifle it, a betraying yawn escaped his lips.

"Perhaps, though Harry, tales of their exploits should be saved for another day?" Harry did not fain ignorance of the politely worded dismissal from Dumbledore and, after a brief goodnight to all, he made his way to bed.

Madame Pomfrey had insisted Harry take an infusion of sleep-inducing herbs each night. Although not as effective as Dreamless Sleep Potion, the herbal infusion was not addictive and was proving very effective. It tasted so foul, in Harry's opinion, he thought he actually preferred Polyjuice Potion and that was saying something!

Harry took off his glasses and placed them next to the now-empty herbal teacup, put on his pyjamas and climbed into bed. He still could not grasp properly all that he had been told that day and so he just let his thoughts go where they would. Hermione was good at puzzles, he would let her sift through all the facts he had been given and tell him what he needed to know.

Harry's last thoughts were of Ron.

Ginny's words about her brother worried Harry, was he being selfish in needing Hermione when Ron obviously needed her too?

_I wonder if he's got up the courage to kiss Hermione yet? _Harry mused as Madame Pomfrey's tea carried him off to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Thanks once again for your much appreciated reviews.

**CT Malone: **Sorry last week's chapter was a little short, I have to agree. This weeks should be somewhere in the region of five pages, is that better? As for the 'family' thing... _read on!_

**Comet Moon: **Glad I got you guessing. The answers are all there, honest!

**Dianne: **Author faints in true appreciation! Thanks so much. Have e-mailed you.

**Quillian: **Thanks for adding me to your C2. Checked out your choices and you've got some excellent fics in there. Readers go check out the C2 community Exemplary Harry Potter Fanfiction


	23. Words Unspoken

Chapter 23 : Words Unspoken 

For two whole days Harry completely ignored all the new information Dumbledore had given him. He couldn't understand what it meant so he contented himself with the thought that Hermione would be able to understand and translate it for him.

To keep his mind occupied, however, Harry had been reading some of the books in the small but very interesting library that belonged to Eleanor Cantwell.

There were some books of recipes, which he ignored; some were biographies of famous witches and wizards, which he glanced at. Deciding it was interesting to read a little more about some of the chocolate frog card characters Harry put the books to one side; he'd read them, he decided if he got the time.

The books that held Harry's interest the most however were the many - surprisingly many – books on defensive and offensive magic.

With Eleanor help and guidance Harry had chosen four books and had taken them back up to his bed where he liked to sit and read. For the first time Harry felt there may be a chance that he'd be allowed to return to school. It was true that he had yet to prove his innocence but somehow Dumbledore and the Order had been able to get the hunt for him called off. The Aurors obviously knew where he was, it was Tonks who had brought him here after all, and he was therefore technical under House Arrest and not allowed to leave.

But the previous night after dinner Harry had been given an envelope containing his OWL results and decisions as to his subjects for the next two years followed. Harry reasoned and Eleanor agreed, that they wouldn't be so cruel as to get Harry to think about his future if they truly believed he would be locked up in Azkaban.

Harry was still worried though. His main worry stemmed not from the false charges that had been brought against him but from the possible genuine charge regarding his use of an Unforgivable Curse. He couldn't forget that he had used the Cruciatus curse on a fellow human being even if she, Bellatrix Lestrange, was an escaped convict at the time.

When this thought crossed his mind Harry would put aside his books and pace back and forth on the bedroom floor. He didn't do it for long however because his feet, although healing quite nicely according to Madame Pomfrey, still caused him a fair bit of pain.

Eleanor always seemed to know when Harry had these dark and depressing thoughts and would appear at the door with a mug of tea, a pile of toast, a piece of fruit or, as on one memorable occasion, a slice of his favourite treacle tart. It tasted just the same as at Hogwarts and Eleanor confessed that she got her recipe from the house elves by hiding in the kitchen under Moody's invisibility cloak and watching what they did. Harry had to laugh at that, it seemed such an innocuous use of the cloak compared to uses he'd put his cloak to.

"You must remember though Harry that when I was at school it was in a time of relative peace. There was no Voldemort (Eleanor never had any trouble saying the name). Grindelwald was on the rise, it's true, but he had yet to show his hand fully. In the muggle world they had experienced one Great War and no one could conceive that another was looming on the horizon.

All that changed within five years of me leaving school.

Instead of a quiet life as a wife and mother I became …" her voice trailed away as she changed her mind about telling Harry too much of her past, but Harry heard the words regardless.

'_An Unspeakable. What a ridiculous name! What we did was Unspeakable. I know I'll never forgive myself for the things I did – no was forced to do! What is it about this young man that makes me want to tell him everything? I've not thought of those times in so long and he just looks at me with those emerald eyes of his and here I am ready to bear my soul. So many deaths, so many families ripped apart. As if he could ever really understand!'_

A tear had started in the corner of one eye. Gently Harry leaned forward, wiped the tear away and said in a whisper "I'm sure you did what had to be done – not what you chose to do!"

"And so will you Harry, so will you." Eleanor replied.

It was only after she had left the room and returned to the letter she had been writing downstairs, that Eleanor realised that Harry had responded to words unspoken. Instead of picking up the quill from where she had left it, Eleanor reached for the pot of glittering floo powder from above the mantelpiece.

—o-O-o—

As had happened so often since he had been living at Hill House, Harry's thoughts turned once more to Ginny Weasley.

If he closed his eyes he could almost feel her in his arms. He had been so fearful that, despite Sirius assurances, his shared dream talks with Ginny had been just his imagination running wild. To know, to really know, that all they had shared was real, gave Harry a sense of belonging to someone for the first time in his life.

True he belonged to the 'Dream Team' as Snape had called Ron, Hermione and him but as Ron and Hermione grew closer, Harry had felt the beginnings of a subtle but definite separation. Now they were a couple, even if Ron was slow to recognise the fact, Harry felt like an outsider looking in.

At the same time that Harry came to enjoy and relish his new-found belonging with Ginny, another part of him grew increasingly worried.

It all boiled down to that damned prophesy!

A marked man, that's what he was and did he have the right to involve Ginny and put her at increased risk?

First there was Cedric. Next came Sirius. Now Sam was missing, as was Remus! How many more?

Almost as though these dark thoughts opened a doorway, Harry's scar hurt him horribly and he curled up on his side, knees drawn tight to his chest and squeezing his eyelids tight together.

_He was pacing back and forth in a towering rage. In his right hand was a serpent-headed cane, which he struck against the high black leather boots he wore under his voluminous black robes. He was utterly furious!_

_Incompetents and fools! He was surrounded by imbeciles and idiots!_

_Not one of these worthless creatures could even begin to comprehend the damage they had done to his plan. It was all mapped out in the minutest detail and now it had to be totally re-structured. _

_Weeks of planning ruined!_

_Before him knelt two black-robed figures. They wore no mask but sheets of long white-blond hair hid their faces. Their eyes were downcast, their identities obscured._

"_My Lord." Whispered the male figure and Harry immediately recognised the voice of Lucius Malfoy. "It is my understanding that Potter will most likely be permitted to return to Hogwarts on the 1st of September. The Ministry will be sorely stretched to provide adequate security for the students passing through the barrier to the platform. That may be the most advantageous time for your servants to act."_

_Voldemort's mood suddenly changed as he got the perfect idea._

"_Lucius you may yet prove to be a credit to your lineage. This is what I want done and if you do as I ask precisely then we will not have to capture Potter._

_He will be begging to come to me!"_

_Voldemort threw back his head and laughed, long, loud and maniacally._

Harry's ribs ached horribly as the insane laughter erupted from his own lips. A sharp pain like a knife being thrust in his side made Harry draw a sudden breath; he looked up and realised he had an audience.

Albus Dumbledore was crouched at Harry's side, standing in the doorway was Eleanor and …

"Hermione!" Harry said in not much more than a whisper.

Harry's bushy-haired friend almost knocked Dumbledore over as she rushed to Harry's side.

"Oh I knew it! It's your scar again, isn't it?" She reached up a hand and placed her fingertips against his skin. A blindingly bright white light flared behind Harry's eyelids making him brush her hand away. Hermione looked down at her fingers that were sticky with Harry's blood.

"What was that?" The two friends chorused. Then as one they turned to look Dumbledore in the eye.

There was a distinctly calculating look on the Headmasters face as he asked quietly "Tell me what happened when Miss Granger touched your skin, Harry."

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances again before Harry replied "There was a flash of bright light and I felt a …?" Harry's words failed him but Hermione continued, "… warmth flooding through me as though I had just stepped out into a warm summer's day."

Harry nodded. "That's it exactly!"

"Curious. Have either of you felt anything like this before?"

"No sir." Said Harry.

"No, not while I've touched Harry but …" Now it was Hermione's turn to be lost for words.

"When you have perhaps been in physical contact with someone else?" asked Dumbledore.

As Harry looked at his best friend he noticed a distinct blush colour her cheeks, not as bright as Ron's perhaps but a blush all the same.

"With Ron a couple of days ago and then again last night." Answered Hermione.

Last night? Harry's mind was racing now. What was Hermione doing spending time with Ron in the middle of the night?

"Ah, yes. Mr. Weasley's 'nightmares'! stated Dumbledore flatly but the double meaning was plain for all to see.

"Ron had woken the whole house up at about 3 this morning. He was really agitated. It was much worse than normal."

"Go on, Miss Granger, what happened next?" prompted Dumbledore, gently."

"I'd woken up just before I heard the first shouts from Ron's room – don't remember what woke me exactly – anyway, I'd been awake for a couple of minutes when I heard Ron shouting. At first I couldn't make much sense of what he was saying but when I went up to his room, Ginny was already there. I nearly turned to leave but Ginny said 'He needs you!' That was all. So I went and sat on the other side of the bed – Ginny was on Ron's left – so I sat on the right. Ginny took my right hand and placed it on Ron's forehead and that was when it happened. Ginny and Ron felt it too, I'm sure of it. What does it mean Professor?" said Hermione a frown creasing her forehead.

"I'm not sure." Said Dumbledore pensively. "I have some theories which I need to examine thoroughly before I speak to you further."

Harry made a sound of exasperation; his meaning however was crystal clear. More secrets!

Dumbledore did not ignore Harry this time however but merely stated: "Have either of you ever heard of the Sixth Power?"

They both shook their head.

"No? Well I'm not surprised." Said Dumbledore. "The knowledge has passed into Legend. I'm not trying to be evasive Harry, I'm afraid my power of recall is not as it once was. I must consultant my predecessors and not a few text books before I can make a more informed guess as to what is occurring."

Harry and Hermione realised the subject was now closed to discussion.

"But perhaps now would be an excellent time for you, Harry, to recall what, if anything, you saw when your scar bled." Prompted the Headmaster.

Harry told exactly what he could recall just after Eleanor had entered the room with Moody. At the end of his recitation the silence was almost palpable.

It was Hermione who eventually spoke first. "What on earth could Voldemort mean by Harry beginning to go to him? Harry would never joint Voldemort not for all the gold in Gringotts! Not unless …!"

Harry met Hermione's gaze and they both knew that the only thing that would make Harry beg to go to Voldemort was if any of his 'family' were put at risk. Voldemort knew Harry would go to the end of the earth for his friends. Hadn't he done just that last June when he believed Sirius was in danger?

"I see that you have accurately perceived the risk Miss Granger. It is not Harry that needs protection now it is you and his other friends. To that end I believe it would be appropriate to call for a full meeting of the Order. So, if you will excuse me, I have a few people to contact." As he finished speaking Dumbledore stood slowly and bowing slightly in farewell, left the room with Moody and Eleanor.

Finally Harry and Hermione were alone.

"Well?" said Harry.

"Well what?" replied Hermione.

"Has Ron… you know?" prompted Harry, dying to find out what had gone on between his two best friends.

"Honestly Harry, you're almost as bad as Parvati and Lavender!" said Hermione indignantly.

"No need to be insulting Hermione!" said Harry going into a mock huff and making Hermione laugh when he pretended to sweep his hair back over his shoulder with one hand a-la-Parvati!

"Do you a deal Harry. I'll tell you, if you tell me about you and Ginny!"

"No fair!" exclaimed Harry. "I asked first."

But Hermione had crossed her arms in that familiar posture of stubborn determination.

"Oh. OK." Now it was Harry's turn to blush. Harry had climbed back on to his bed and sat with his back to the headboard, knees drawn up to his chest like a barricade behind which he wanted to hide. Hermione was sitting on the bed, one leg tucked up underneath her, eyes on Harry's face and posture reading meaning into every gesture, every glance as well as every word.

During all the time Harry spoke, only once did Hermione ask a question.

"Have you spoken to Sirius since Hastings? Since you first saw Ginny?"

After a moment's contemplation, Harry replied "No. Do you think it's important?"

"I'm not sure. It seems a little odd, don't you think, that you speak to Ginny but Sirius is never there?"

"Well he did say that it's different for him, he couldn't touch me or anything but Ginny can."

At this Hermione raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question.

"What? Just because I said we could touch …"

"How was it?" Teased Hermione, "Wet?" she queried, harking back to Harry's first kiss with Cho in the Room of Requirement. Harry's answer was so serious though that she rapidly cast off all pretence at levity.

"Hermione have you ever wanted something so badly that you end up being afraid that if the day ever came when your dream came true, the reality would be an enormous let down?"

"Oh, Harry! I am so sorry, I just presumed from what Ginny said, …" she once again failed to finish her sentence.

"What did Ginny say? Tell me?" In his desperation Harry had reached forward and grasped Hermione's upper arms in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Ouch! Harry, you're hurting me!" moaned Hermione.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to." Apologised Harry as he let her go.

"Well you should be." She scolded gently but rubbing her arms all the same. Harry had such a look of contrition on his face that Hermione took pity on him and told him exactly what Ginny had said.

"Really? She said that?" Harry was blushing now.

"Last year you worried that you were no good at kissing and this year I'm told that Harry James Potter is the best kisser in Hogwarts!" said Hermione.

Harry lay back against his pillow, still with a soppy grin on his face.

"I take it that she didn't tell you when she was here then?" queried Hermione.

"No. We didn't get any time to be alone. Most of that day was taken up with me recalling everything that had happened since I left Privet Drive. I shall have difficulty believing that I'll never have to return there and that the Dursleys …"

"… Are dead. I know there was no love lost between you but it's odd that they left you everything in their wills don't you think?" Said Hermione quite matter-of-factly.

"What?" said Harry, totally dumbfounded.

"Well, that's part of what Dumbledore was trying to tell you, Harry. The Dursleys left everything to you. You now own number 4 Privet Drive!"

"But I thought it would all go to Aunt Marge and I know she planned on leaving everything to Battersea Dogs Home."

"Have you forgotten that Marge died too?" queried Hermione. "Apparently it's be proved that Marge died first and since she left everything to her brother, your Uncle Vernon, and only if he pre-deceased her would everything go to the dogs home. That means that you also inherit Marge's home, her smallholding here in Essex, and all her dogs. Her next-door-neighbour is looking after the place until you decide what you want to do with it."

"But why?" challenged Harry. "What made them leave it all to me? They always hated me."

"Well that's true but apparently Mr. Dursley hated the tax man even more. He actually stated in his will that he rather it be, - what were his words? – Oh yes, squandered by a no-good layabout than one penny piece of it go to the thrice-damned tax man!"

Harry started laughing again at that but rapidly stopped.

"It only hurts when I laugh." He grimaced through his grin.

"Harry, be serious for one minute will you. There's a lot more that you need to understand. The Dursleys are not the only ones to include you in their wills." Said Hermione.

Harry looked puzzled again but paid close attention to what Hermione told him next.

"NO! NO! No way! I can't! It just isn't right! I killed him. How can I possibly benefit from his death? Give it away – to the Weasleys – to Dobby for all I care – I won't take it!"

Harry's fury at being told he was to inherit half of Sirius' not inconsiderable estate showed signs of rapidly getting out of hand.

The two friends had been sitting side-by-side on Harry's bed during Hermione's explanation but now Harry was back to pacing back and forth. As his temper flared small ornaments scattered around the room were shattering. At least two of the stained-glass panels in the bedroom window had cracked and little puffs of smoke were rising from the plaited rag-rug on the floor.

It was only Hermione's quick thinking and expeditious use of her want that saved the day. Harry was so blind to what was occurring around him that he hadn't even noticed the blatant use of magic by an underage witch out of school!

Eleanor had informed Hermione that Hill House had some rather special wards placed upon it to keep things "discrete and away from prying ministry eyes". Hermione couldn't wait to ask about them and had been promised a 'nice long chat' later.

After about fifteen minutes of Harry's ranting and raving – most of which was purely emotional with not a jot of logic – Hermione had had enough. She cast a quick silencing charm on Harry, which instantly infuriated him even more. In his annoyance Harry succeeded in smashing the light bulb in the pendent fitting in the ceiling and the pair were plunged into darkness – well almost!

Hermione had heard the expression 'incandescent with rage' but had never actually witnessed it before. She said nothing however. Now did not seem to be a good time to mention that Harry's fury was making him glow with an ethereal blue/green light – especially his eyes!

"Lumos." Said Hermione and her wand light illuminated the room once more. On the desk was an oil lamp with a box of muggle matches. Eleanor had explained their presence saying she had muggle friends and also squibs in the family and the electricity was therefore necessary. The area she lived in though, was prone to power-cuts, hence the lamp and matches.

Harry had a face like thunder as he sat with his arms crossed. "If looks could kill," thought Hermione but all she said was "I'll take the silencing charm off if you promise to listen and not start shouting at me again. I'm only the messenger remember and you did ask me to come here Harry."

Harry seemed to deflate – his anger gone and his temper back under control. Hermione said a quiet 'Finite' and Harry whispered, "Thanks."

Hermione continued as though nothing had happened.

"Right then. It appears that Sirius had re-written his will just after we returned to school last January at the end of the Christmas holiday. I suppose what happened to Mr. Weasley brought home how important it is to have a will drawn up to make sure last wishes are met. Most of it is very straightforward. There are a number of legacies and bequests. The ones you'll probably like best are …"

Hermione had assumed her best lecturing voice as she told Harry some of the details.

All the Gryffindor Quidditch Team equipment is to be disposed of and replaced with state-of-the-art brooms, robes, protective gear and practice Quidditch balls.

The institution of the Lily Potter Shield to be awarded to the person or persons to do the most to advance inter-house unit, the recipient to be nominated by anyone attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The nominee to be approved jointly by the House Prefects, the Head Boy and Girl and the four Heads of Houses.

The institution of the Marauders Memorial Mug to be awarded to the person or persons who most clearly deserve the title of Prankster(s) of the Year. To be voted for by the entire school. Recipients may be from the study body or the faculty. Remember the Marauders Motto

"_We do not cease to play because we grow old, we grow old because we cease to play!"_

Harry's eyes were glistening with tears now; some were of joy that his Mum's sense of fair play be recognised and honoured but also for the imagined reaction of Snape to the MMM!


	24. Instincts

Chapter 24 : Instincts 

"Take care, Harry. I know these have been the 'Holidays from Hell' for you but the worst is over …"

Harry raised one eyebrow at that comment, a sign that he certainly didn't agree with Hermione's sentiment.

"…Well then let's hope that it is so. Dumbledore should be able to sort things out with the ministry once they get your wand back."

"Don't you mean 'IF' I get my wand back? Remus has been missing for a week now. Even having extra werewolf strength won't mean he won't eventually crack under the Death Eater's torture." Harry posture of both hands thrust deep in his jeans pocket, shoulders rounded and slumped forward, eyes downcast and one foot scuffing against the flagged stone floor, spoke eloquently of his black mood and conviction that his troubles most definitely weren't over yet!

"Even if he is fine and does manage to get my wand, it'll only prove that it was used to cast Avada Kedavra, it can't show who cast it." Continued Harry, dejectedly.

"Ah! I'm glad you brought that up." Hermione's eyes were bright with her usual enthusiasm for findings long-forgotten or neglected facts. "I was doing some research on wand signatures. Mr. Ollivander was kind enough to point me in the right direction and Bill and I …"

"Bill?" Challenged Harry.

"Yes. Bill. … Bill Weasley? You know … Ron's brother?" said Hermione.

"I know which Bill you meant but what's he got to do with anything? I thought he believed I murdered the Dursleys?"

"That just goes to show how much of what you've been told since you've been here that you have not understood or taken on board!" Hermione said in her best 'school marm' voice.

Harry looked crestfallen and once again he found himself muttering "Sorry."

"It's alright really, Harry. I guess if I'd had to cope the way you've had to, my mind would be befuddled. Mrs. Weasley did tell you that Bill had spent a lot of time scouring the countryside on Sirius' old bike trying to find you. Well, now he knows you're safe he wants to do all he can to prove your innocence. He's got a marvellous logical way of working but also let's his intuition guide him as well. It's an usual way of working – especially for a man." Said Hermione.

Harry let out a small exclamation at that, in his opinion, sexist remark. Hermione noticed his reaction but simply replied "Wizards and witches have always recognised the very different strengths of each of the sexes and have relished them and almost encouraged them without decrying those who do not fit in with the norm. For example, the gift of prophecy nearly always appears in witches but very rarely in wizards. Spellcrafting, on the other hand, is nearly always carried out by wizards. My theory is that there is a genetic element involved and that some skills are linked to females where others are more likely to be displayed by males."

Harry's eyes had glazed over slightly as Hermione's lecture came to a conclusion.

"Anyway" Hermione continued, "as I was saying. Bill has been helping with research into getting a kind of feedback from the wand which could enable the identity of the spellcaster to be proven. We're not there yet but we've got some promising leads."

As Hermione was finishing her briefing, Eleanor had walked into the kitchen.

"I know you've already managed to produce a Patronus Hermione under Harry's expert tuition; I understand it takes the form of an otter."

Hermione and Harry both blushed at Eleanor's praise.

"If you ever decided to become an animagus I wouldn't be surprised if you took the form of a bloodhound. You really are a remarkably tenacious and resourceful young woman!" Said Eleanor.

Moody stepped into the room and without any preamble added "Reminds me a lot of you in your younger days Ellie!"

"In more ways than you can ever know Alastor." Added Eleanor cryptically.

"Miss Granger, if you have finally finished saying goodbye to Potter here, we'd better be off. I'll floo to The Burrow first, you follow after ten minutes. If there are any problems at that end I'll send an alarm back through the network. If that happens you must immediately Dumbledore." Hermione nodded her understanding and Moody stepped into the hearth and was gone in a flash of green flames.

"What's this alarm Mad-Eye was talking about?" asked Harry as he had never heard of any such thing before.

"It's actually one of Fred and George's inventions. Dumbledore and Mad-Eye had the idea but Fred and George refined it and got it to work." Hermione stated with not a little pride in her almost-brothers genius.

"I call them absolutely brilliant!" added Eleanor. "Wish we'd had a Fred and George and their talents 50 years ago; things might have gone our way much sooner."

Hermione realised that Harry's question still hadn't been answered. "Fred and George created what look like green-coloured sherbet lemons but if you arrive at your destination and it's unsafe, you drop it at your feet and it sends you back to your departure point but – _and this is the smart bit_ – it seals off the fireplace so that you and the rest of the network isn't compromised."

"Brilliant!" said Harry with pride in Ginny and Ron's brothers. "What have they called them?"

"'Floo-Flares' said Hermione with a smile.

"Well I really must go now Harry, the ten minutes are up so it should be OK. Ron seems to get very agitated if he thinks I'm at risk so the sooner I'm beside him the better." She then stepped closer to Harry and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek while at the same time giving his hand a squeeze. "I have a feeling you won't be alone for long, Harry!"

Hermione turned, stepped into the hearth and with a shout of 'The Burrow' she was gone.

Harry stood staring at the empty fireplace for a few minutes, his thoughts tumbling this way and that; he was brought back to earth by Eleanor saying "Why don't you go up and get some sleep, Harry, you look done in."

"Mmm. Good idea." He muttered as he stepped from the room.

zzz

_Squeak. Squeak. Squeak._

_The sound, instead of being annoying, was comforting. Familiar. He knew that sound, knew it as well as he knew the sound of his wife's voice._

_WIFE!_

_What the…!_

_Harry sat up abruptly and turned only to fall with a painful thump on to a hard wooden floor._

"_Harry! What's the matter? You look as though you've seen a ghost!"_

_Harry looked towards the speaker; it was only his Ginny. _

_But she was different._

_She had her hair braided back off her face but, Harry noticed, there was grey in among the still vivid Weasley red. Her face had smile lines at the corner of her eyes and mouth._

_Harry slowly tried to stand but he found his joints were stiff and his legs and side ached. Looking at his outstretched hands he saw they too showed signs of ageing with liver spots and loose skin._

"_Ginny?" Queried Harry. "What's the matter with you?"_

"_Now. Now Harry. Don't start fussing. The Doctor said fresh air will help and I know it's got a little chilly now the sun's gone in but I'm fine. Don't make me go to bed yet, please?" She added in a pleading voice._

_Harry realised he was standing next to a porch swing that squeaked as it gently rocked back and forward. Ginny was sitting on a padded garden chair with her feet resting on a stool; a hand-knitted blanket covered her knees and lower body. In her stiff and arthriticky fingers she held knitting needles. She lived up her work to show Harry._

"_Do you think Lily's seventh child will be a girl and repeat our pattern of six boys and one girl? I know it will be loved the same no matter if it be girl or boy – but it would be kind of nice. Don't you think?"_

_Harry sat down and stared at her in silence._

"_Harry! You know what I'm talking about, don't sit there with a blank expression on your face. The pattern? Six boys and one girl! Mum and Dad, then us. Now Lily and Stuart. What do you think?"_

_Harry could still see Ginny but her outline was quickly becoming blurred. In his ears he could hear a loud buzzing, then everything went white._

"_Harry! Harry! Are you OK?" It was Ginny's voice again._

_Reluctantly and very slowly Harry opened his eyes._

_It was the living room at The Burrow. In the fireplace there was a warm and comforting fire that had burned low and was now a mass of glowing coals. No lights were lit and Harry could only see Ginny's beautiful face by the flickering firelight. But even in that soft glow he could tell that this was a vision of the present-day Ginny not the aged but, in Harry's opinion, still beautiful Ginny. _

_The mother of his seven children? It had been so real – yet so unreal!_

_It was a comforting but curiously unsettling image._

_For no logical reason Harry vowed not to mention his experience to anyone – especially Ginny!_

"_Harry?" This time as Ginny called his name it was accompanied by a gentle but insistent poke in the ribs. _

_Harry had been sitting with his feet stretched towards the fire; a copy of The Evening Prophet lay scattered at his feet as though it had slipped from his fingers as he slumbered. Ginny was sitting beside him, one foot tucked beneath her as she sat crocheting away, large quantities of completed work lay on her lap._

"_I'm not asleep. Honest." Said Harry._

_Ginny laughed at that. "Of course you are, silly, otherwise we wouldn't be able to talk."_

"_Yeah, I know that." Said Harry a little bit peeved. "What I meant was …"_

"_I know what you meant and it's OK. Hermione told me you'd be mentally and physically tired after all the talking and debating that went on today."_

"_Well that's a polite way of putting it. Ron'd probably just say that I'm knackered and he'd be right."_

"_Hermione wasn't sure, still, if you'd taken it all in. She said you sort of glazed over when she explained about Sirius will."_

_Harry had picked up the paper and was tearing strips off of it, rolling each strip into a little ball and flicking them into the white-hot embers, enjoying the little burst of flame when they caught fire._

"_What are you going to do with Spinner's End?" asked Ginny._

"_What am I going to do with what?" responded Harry absent-mindedly._

"_Spinner's End." Ginny repeated. At Harry's blank look, Ginny gave an exasperated sigh. Putting down her work and turning to look Harry straight in the eye Ginny challenged Harry._

"_Harry I want – no NEED – you to listen to me carefully. There are decisions you need to make that are very important but you need to fully understand the possible consequences of your actions."_

"_Oh! Yeah, right. Sorry." Said Harry. The fact that he sat up and turned to her mirroring, subconsciously, her post made Ginny believe she really had his fully attention for the first time._

"_Spinners End" began Ginny in a slow and precise voice, "is the house that Sirius bought with the help of his uncle Alphard. No-one knew about it until Sirius' Will was read after his death."_

_At the mention of Sirius death Harry resumed picking at the paper; Ginny reached out one hand to still Harry's. He looked up into her eyes and Ginny saw unmistakable tears but Harry would not let them fall. As he had done in the hospital, Harry tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling and Ginny could see the effort it took to control the flow._

"_Let them come, Harry!" The words were so quietly spoken Harry was not sure he heard them or just imagined them. "There's nothing wrong with tears. Let them flow and help to cleanse away the painful memories and let the joyful ones shine through."_

"_Boys don't cry." Said Harry and even to him the sentiment sounded both asinine and juvenile._

"_That what the Dursleys told you?" questioned Ginny, softly._

_Harry just nodded._

"_What utter codswallop!" Declared Ginny unequivocally. "It's not a sign of weakness but a sign of strength, of understanding and compassion. It shows your humanity." _

_As she spoke Ginny had moved towards Harry and he had moved towards her. Harry's head now rested in Ginny's lap and she spoke quietly as she stroked his hair gently back off his face. Harry relished this undemanding intimacy, something he had never known and it was this, perhaps, that at long last let Harry's pain at the loss of Sirius, his parents, Cedric and even the Dursleys, break free into a torrent of tears. Once he started he couldn't stop. He wept long and he wept hard._

_Eventually his sobs subsided and Ginny leaned down to gently kiss him on the forehead. Again there was a bright light and a flood of warmth. _

_Behind Harry's closed eyelids he had seen Ron and Hermione; they were sitting side by side on the bank of the small pond in the meadow next to The Burrow. Ron had Hermione snuggled close to his chest and Harry could even see Crookshanks curled up at Hermione's side._

_No sooner had the image come – that it was gone!_

"_Do you think they've kissed yet?" Ginny asked mischievously._

"_God, I hope so!" said Harry. "Otherwise Ron's going to be a bigger pain than usual when we get back to school."_

"_Ron? What made you say Ron? I was talking about Luna and Neville." Said Ginny, puzzled._

"_Luna and Neville? But I saw Ron and Hermione." Said a perplexed Harry._

"_How odd! When I kissed you I felt a warmth and saw a white light. Next thing I saw was Luna and Neville in a greenhouse working side-by-side repotting plants and smiling at each other like a pair of lovesick puppies. Perhaps we should tell Dumbledore." Said Ginny._

_Last year Harry had balked each time that same suggestion had been made. Harry still didn't fully trust the aged Headmaster but Harry had to acknowledge that things might have turned out a lot different if he had._

_Reluctantly he agreed to Ginny's suggestion. "When will you next see him?" asked Harry._

"_Harry, you'll see him before I will. He's going to dinner at Hill House tomorrow night." Said Ginny._

"_Why?" _

"_To find out what you want done with Spinners End."_

_The conversation had gone full circle and he could avoid the subject no more._

_Spinners End, it transpired, was a large country house that was in the same village, Godric's Hollow, as Harry's first and only real, home. James, Lily and Sirius had planned on linking the two homes by an underground tunnel a-la-Shrieking Shack._

_Harry knew his parents had been warned of Voldemort's determination to kill Harry and prevent Trelawney's prophecy coming true, he supposed this tunnel was to provide a safe and convenient escape route. _

_Why then had they not used it on Halloween Night 1981?_

_Unlike Grimmauld Place, Spinners End did not have the numerous wards and charms on it. Nor was it unplottable. Harry wanted to see the house for himself before he decided what he should do with it and to do that he would definitely need Dumbledore's help._

"_Gin, if Dumbledore let's me visit Spinners End and Godric's Hollow, will you come with me?" asked Harry._

"_Of course I will Harry. I'll have to check with Mum and Dad first though."_

"_Perhaps your Mum could come too. I'd appreciate her thoughts on … things." It might be a bit old-fashioned but Harry also wanted to know whether Molly and Arthur approved of him as Ginny's boyfriend._

"_Do you think your Mum and Dad…!" Harry voice trailed away._

"_Mum and Dad, what? Harry. You're not making much sense." Said Ginny._

_Harry felt unaccountably nervous. "Do you think your Mum and Dad would mind if we started going out?" he managed to articulate at last._

"_Oh, Harry, you daft thing! I'm certain that they not only won't mind, they will be delighted. They already treat you as one of us!" said Ginny confident in her parents' response._

"_Yeah, but Voldemort's not looking to kill you!" said Harry with a distinct nervousness in his tone._

"_True. But then the Weasleys aren't exactly his favourite family either, Harry."_

_Harry screwed up his forehead at this comment._

"_Why do you think Lucius Malfoy gave me the diary back in my first year?" Challenged Ginny._

_Harry looked puzzled but then stated "That's obvious. It was to lure me down to the Chamber and kill me."_

"_Wrong!" Proclaimed Ginny._

"_Harry, when Lucius Malfoy planted that diary on me it didn't directly relate to our relationship. Malfoy picked me so that if it came out that a pureblood daughter was killing off muggle-born students then Dad's Muggle Protection Act would not have been made Law. When I told Riddle all that stuff about you he counted that as a distinct bonus, that was all."_

"_Well that 'bonus' nearly got you killed!" said Harry angrily throwing a much larger bal of paper into the flames._

"_But I'm not dead! I'm fine and you're fine." Said Ginny. " We learn from our mistakes and move on. Otherwise we stagnate and don't grow." _

"_That's why you get over things quicker than I do I suppose." Said Harry quietly._

"_That, and having six older brothers and parents who don't let past hurts fester. In a house as crowded as ours, we don't have the room to storm off in a huff and stay that way for long."_

"_I'm not in a huff." Said Harry defensively._

"_I didn't say you were, silly. You've not really been listening and taking on board anything Hermione and I have been telling you. Have you?" Challenged the feisty redhead again._

"_I've been trying. It's just that I hate the idea of benefiting from anyone's death, the Dursleys are bad enough…"_

"_Only fair if you ask me, after everything they put you through."_

"_Maybe so, but Sirius…?"_

"_Sirius loved you Harry." Stated Ginny. " You heard him on that cliff-top. He doesn't blame you, he blames himself for dying and not being around to help you deal with Voldemort."_

"_I suppose …" began Harry but Ginny cut him off again._

"_There's no suppose about it. He wants you to have it … and Remus too."_

"_Remus? What's he got to do with it?" Harry didn't remember his name being mentioned even though it was._

"_Remus gets Grimmauld Place, you get Spinners End, the library and artefacts go to the Order and you, Remus and the Order get equal shares in the realised capital. Sirius suggested setting everything that neither you nor Remus wants and dividing up the proceeds. He also said there's some personal effects at Spinners End that he thought you'd like but suggest Moody checks them out first as he hadn't checked them since before he went to Azkaban."_

_For the first time since the will was mentioned Harry showed some real interest in what was going on round him._

"_If he wants Moody to check, do you reckon stuff could be dangerous?" worried Harry._

"_Well, remember that silver music box when we were cleaning Grimmauld Place? Perhaps there's stuff like that? I never thought about it before. I should ask Dumbledore he'd know if anyone does, or perhaps Remus?" Harry's eyes actually had a small sparkle of interest in them for the first time in a long time._

"_It won't hurt to ask him. Perhaps, if it is not too painful for him, we could ask him to come with us to Spinners End?" suggested Ginny._

"_Is there any news yet?" She continued._

"_Nothing in the Prophet and I've not 'seen' anything about him, only of Sam being held."_

_The two sat in comfortable since staring at the still-glowing embers of the fire. After about fifteen minutes Ginny said "What's it like living at Hill House?"_

_Harry did not answer immediately but Ginny only picked up her work and carried on crocheting. She seemed to be content to let Harry answer in his own time._

"_Eleanor's really nice you know. She reminds me a bit of both McGonagall and Hermione. She fought alongside Moody during Voldemort's first rise to power. I think she was an Unspeakable like Bode and Croaker." Said Harry after a while._

"_I didn't get the chance to talk to her much when I came over but I did catch her and Mad-Eye exchanging odd looks." Commented Ginny as she turned her work round and changed the colour of yarn she was working._

"_They used to go out together I think, but I don't know what happened." Harry then remembered about the cellar. "I just remembered something. Harry sat up attentively, alert, Ginny picked up on the importance of what he was about to say and put down her work, all attention on Harry's words._

_For a good long while Harry recalled Mad-Eye and Eleanor's words to each other as Harry stood concealed, he thought, on the cellar steps._

"_Did you go right to the bottom of the steps?" questioned Ginny. Harry closed his eyes as he recalled the events of that evening._

"_No I was told to come down by Mad-Eye and I got as far as the bottom step but it was freezing down there. I'd asked who the 'She' was that they had been talking about – Moody had said that I wouldn't be alone and 'she' would always be at my side. Eleanor then said that might be my biggest trial. I have no idea what she meant and then Eleanor added 'So near and yet so far – within arms reach but untouchable!' and lastly she asked Moody 'Does she know?' but Moody never answered her." finished Harry._

"_And they never told you any more? Didn't tell you what they were on about?" asked Ginny._

"_Nope! Not a word. Moody made some comment about it being my turn to ask the questions but by then we were back upstairs and Moody saw the state my feet were in and the conversation changed track. I forgot all about the 'she' they'd mentioned._

_Sounding remarkably like Hermione, Ginny said "I wonder what's so important in that cellar that even the entrance to it is concealed? Do you remember anything else about it? Did you see any books or anything?"_

"_There was a large lectern in the shape of a phoenix with its wings outstretched." Said Harry. "As I got to the bottom step Eleanor lifted a very large book off of it. She took it to a large stone chest with runes carved all over it, the book was placed inside and the lid closed with a soft thud."_

"_Well that sounds like a Libris." Said Ginny._

"_A what?" enquired Harry with a puzzled expression on his face._

"_A Libris." Repeated Ginny but she realised that once again Harry's upbringing in the Muggle world was showing. "Sorry. A Libris Chest. Most wizarding families have one." Explained Ginny slowly and carefully slipping into an almost teaching tone of voice. "All important documents, certificates, lineages etc., belonging to wizarding families are kept in special chests which can only be opened by a member of the family to which it belongs. It's charmed and when a witch or wizard turns 11 a drop of their blood is dripped on to the family tree carved on it's lid and from that point on they can open the chest. At 11 they can access the upper chambers only. When they reach 17 another drop of blood then allows them to access the rest of the chest."_

"_Chambers? In a chest?" then Harry recalled Moody's chest, the one he'd been imprisoned in for almost a year. That had seven looks and seven keys. "Oh. Right!" _

_After thinking on this information for a minute or two Harry asked, "So you have a chest at The Burrow?"_

"_Well no, actually we don't. The Weasley chest was kept at Dad's older brother's house. He was my Uncle Bilius. Bill's named after him. He died just after I was born but I know he and Dad were very close. Dad still gets choked up when he thinks or talks about him." Ginny eyes were sad and downcast._

"_Sorry." Said Harry again. He was aware that there was more to this than Ginny was saying but he decided not to force matters. "So you reckon the chest in the cellar could be one of those Libris Chests?"_

"_Could be. Same idea anyway. Did you see anything else?"_

"There were tapestries on the walls like that horrid family tree at Grimmauld Place but the names were much much smaller and there were loads of them. Hundreds even! Too small to read anyway."

"_That's curious! Unless it was just the Cantwell family tree? But I don't remember hearing anyone other than Eleanor with that Surname."_

_zzz_

"Harry? Who are you talking too?"

Harry could feel a hand pressing on his shoulder, it was quite strong and the voice was quiet but commanding all the same.

"Ginny?" queried Harry not quite awake.

"Nearly." Quipped Jenny.

Harry sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. Jenny handed him his glasses which he put on. Instantly Jenny and the room came into focus. Eleanor stood in the doorway, one hand still resting on the door handle.

"Hungry?" asked Jenny just as Harry's stomach gave an answering rumble.

"Starving!" he said and he went to throw back the covers and get out of bed. Then he remembered he had stripped off completely when he'd come upstairs!

"Er. Jenny… I'll see you downstairs in a little while. OK?" Harry was blushing furiously. It was too good for Jenny to pass up, so she reached over and pretended to tug the covers away. Harry blushed redder than ever and pulled them up to cover the bare chest that Jenny had been staring at.

"Never could stand hairy chests. Give me a smooth bod any day!" teased Jenny.

"And what does Dr. McGregor have then? Don't tell me you haven't found out yet?" smirked Harry with one eyebrow raised in question.

'Yes' thought Harry 'the best defence was definitely offence.'

Eleanor was still standing in the doorway while this little exchange was taking place.

"Advantage Potter, I think." Came the dry comment from the smiling witch.


	25. Back to Earth

Chapter 25 : Back to Earth 

"Take a break Harry. You've been at it for hours. If you push yourself too much Madame Pomfrey and Molly will have my guts for garters," called Eleanor.

"I just want to finish pruning these roses then I'll have a breather." Replied Harry. He reached up to a long straggling branch of the very old but still beautiful rose. A sudden pain in his side reminded Harry that not many weeks had passed since his accident. He winced and placed a hand on his side in an effort to ease the pain.

"M'okay." Said Harry as he realised Eleanor had seen his sharp intake of breath. "Perhaps I could do with a break." He walked back up the lawn to the table and chairs that sat on the flagged stone patio that ran the width of the fine old house. Harry had come to love the house, the garden and also the two women who called the house their home.

Eleanor and Jenny were almost like an older and younger version of the same person. They both had the same quirky and somewhat dry sense of humour; they both enjoyed teasing Harry and he found he liked teasing them back. When they laughed they giggled like schoolgirls – a trait which Harry found adorable but he would never dream of admitting.

In other respects the two women were complete opposites.

Jenny was a vegetarian.

Eleanor loved steaks, ribs and roasts.

Jenny was tee-total.

Eleanor loved wine with her food and was partial to a drop of brandy before bed.

Jenny tried to keep fit and Harry witnessed her exercising in the warmth of the conservatory at the side of the house where it caught the sun. She also went jogging most mornings.

Eleanor did no exercise but she was surprisingly fit and active for a woman of her years.

They both adored chocolate and – it seemed – one Harry James Potter!

Indeed in the few weeks he had lived here, Hill House felt more like home to Harry than Privet Drive ever had.

Dumbledore had retrieved all Harry's belongings from Number 4 and various articles could now be seen scattered around his bedroom. To make Harry feel more at home Eleanor had cast a neat little charm on the wallpaper and now it showed a mainly blue sky with occasional clouds drifting over it.

Every once in a while a golden snitch would appear and dart around the walls until it eventually shot out of sight. Harry had appreciated the gesture but asked that the honeysuckle-clad trellis be kept as the pattern on the wall to the side of his bed as he liked to watch the bumblebees as he drifted off to sleep.

On the floor beside the bed stood the rucksack Sam had bought for Harry in Ramsgate. Seeing it brought a lump to his throat; there was still no news of Remus or of Sam and days were stretching into weeks.

Could no news continue to mean good news?

When Jenny brought the rucksack back from the Evidence Store at Police Headquarters, everything was still intact. It had been with a huge sigh of relief that Harry had been able to hand the omnioculars to Mad-Eye Moody.

Harry had thought back to his lists – the one from the hospital and the one made in Hill House.

A lot of items had been crossed off but he still hadn't got his wand back!

Harry finished off the long glass of pumpkin juice pulled his gardening gloves back on and turned to resume his pruning.

"You're doing a pretty good job on that, Harry." Came a familiar voice "But don't forget to water well after you've cleaned up the clippings. Spray with 'Paisleys Patent Pesticide Potion' too. Keeps blackspot, white spot and aphids away."

"NEVILLE. Mate. It's good to see you." Exclaimed Harry with joy. "I didn't know you were coming. Eleanor never said anything."

"Not surprised. She and my Gran don't get on too well. It's some old rivalry thing from their schooldays but I think that really they've just gotten used to sniping at each other." Neville was smiling as he spoke.

There was a sudden awkward silence. Did Neville believe he had murdered his relatives?

No, reasoned Harry, he wouldn't have come here if he thought that.

What then?

Instead of asking the question he was dying to ask, Harry simply said, "How did you get here?"

"Knight bus." Replied Neville briefly then, indicating Harry's unfinished task, asked, "Do you want a hand to finish off the roses?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?" Harry's brief staccato answers were unaccountably awkward. "I'll see if Eleanor's got more seccateurs."

"No need Harry. I always have some with me." From his pocket Neville pulled what at first glance looked like a folded penknife. A few deft flicks later and Neville had in his hand a pair of neat, obviously sharp, seccateurs.

The two boys – no young men – worked side-by-side with hardly a word passing between them.

After pruning the roses, and Harry had counted at least 57 different varieties, they moved on to a clematis-covered pergola that led down to an ornamental pond with a fountain in the centre. It looked like it hadn't worked in a long time. Harry got to thinking that he'd clean it out and fix it next time he was home from Hogwarts.

He voiced these thoughts out loud to Neville who smiled and said, "So, you'll be coming back?"

Harry just had enough time to wonder if Eleanor and Jenny would want to be troubled with a 16 year old around the place again when Jenny appeared at his side. He knew she couldn't apparate but he could almost be forgiven for thinking she could she'd crept up on them so silently.

"Course he's coming back. Why wouldn't he?" stated Jenny unequivocally.

'Yes' thought Harry 'why wouldn't I?'

He wouldn't ever be returning to Privet Drive. He hated Grimmauld place. As much as he loved The Burrow, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had enough on their hands without Harry and the danger he brought with him.

Hill House was quiet. It was well protected – both Dumbledore and Moody had seen to that. It also had two people who liked and respected Harry living within its walls.

'Yes, I would definitely like to come back here next summer.' Determined Harry silently to himself.

"Harry. I was thinking, the next job we should tackle is that honeysuckle on the West Wall. It's got so straggly and top heavy it's pulled some of the trellis off its fixings. A bit of hard pruning now will do it the world of good for next year." Said Neville, pulling Harry back to his surroundings.

"Sure thing, Neville. You're the Gov'nor. Lead the way." Said Harry and he was pleased to see the assured and self-confident way that Neville took to ordering Harry about. Harry didn't mind, he knew Neville had far greater knowledge of herbology and planting than he did.

'If only Snape could see him now!' mused Harry.

Before starting work on the honeysuckle all the rubbish was piled in a wheelbarrow and trundled to the compost heap at the very bottom of the garden. There were two bins of compost with wooden shuttered sides. Neville explained that it was usual to fill one, while the second rots down until it is ready to use.

"Put all the clippings in the left-hand bin after you remove the cover of course." Ordered Neville.

"Of course." Echoed Harry.

"Then you slide up the bottom shutter on the right-hand bin to access the ready-to-use compost." Said Neville has he slid up the shutter and out poured beautiful rich dark brown and slightly warm compost.

Neville bent over to pick up a handful. "Beautiful!" he exclaimed as he let it trickle through his fingers.

The two Gryffindors worked side-by-side chatting about everything and nothing until around 7 o'clock when Jenny came and called them in for dinner.

They cleaned and put away their tools and were walking back up the lush green lawn when Harry realised he hadn't asked Neville about his summer.

"Oh. It's been pretty good actually." He had a small secretive smile on his face; his hands were buried deep in his pocket.

"Come on sunshine. Spill the beans." Harry was now in front of Neville who had to stop in his tracks.

Neville's blush would have done a Weasley proud!

Still Neville stayed silent.

Harry dropped all kidology and said quietly "Luna is something special isn't she?"

Neville raised his eyes and looked Harry in the face; he half expected to be teased but when he saw no sign of malice, he said softly "Yes. Something special."

The two friends continued to the house. As they reached the conservatory they saw Jenny struggling with a large and obviously heavy box. Neville and Harry immediately went to her aid.

It was some new equipment for 'Jenny's Gym' as Harry had renamed the conservatory.

"Food's on the table! Come and get it!" called Eleanor.

It was a delicious spread. There was roast chicken, roast potatoes, carrots and peas and, surprisingly, Yorkshire pudding.

Jenny had a jacket potato with grated cheese and loads of salad. As Eleanor put Jenny's food on the table the two boys heard her say 'Rabbit food' under her breath.

Harry couldn't help but smile when Jenny too had a Yorkshire pudding but in the middle was an assortment of roasted vegetables. It looked delicious. As she walked to her seat she kissed her grandmother on top of the head and muttered "But I'm not a bad bun, am I?"

For a fleeting second Harry had an image of Jenny in a bunny girl's costume in his mind, which made him blush. He picked up a glass of pumpkin juice to try and hide his embarrassment and noted Neville had done the same!

Harry's musings were brought to an abrupt end as Eleanor asked, "How's your Grandmother, Neville? Still as stiff and starchy as ever?"

Eleanor seemed to have adopted her Grumpy Gran persona.

"She's very well indeed Aunt Eleanor. She sends you her love as always!" replied Neville with a distinct twinkle in his eye.

"Aunt Eleanor? But you never said …!" Harry questioned Neville.

"Oh, sorry Harry. I thought you knew. Eleanor and my Grandmother are sisters." Neville went on as though those few words explained everything. It was Jenny who coloured in the picture for Harry.

It transpired that Eleanor Cantwell was a surviving twin, her sister having died at birth. A couple of years later her parents decided to try again to expand their family and again twins were conceived. Tragically death claimed one child once more, this time a boy, but the second twin survived. That child later became the Grandmother to Neville Longbottom.

"So you see Harry they are both twins … just not to each other! They've been rivals all their lives. They had to fight to survive and now they …"

"Fight just 'cos they enjoy it!" This last comment came from Moody who had just appeared at the doorway.

"Your timing, as always, is impeccable Alastor. There's enough for one more. Pull up a chair." Eleanor said this as she placed a chicken leg and some breast meat on a plate and passed it down the table to Moody. Harry was surprised to note that for once Moody did not sniff or overtly check his food before placing it in his mouth.

Something of Harry's thoughts must have shown on his face because Eleanor leaned over to him and whispered to Harry "Alastor knows I would jinx him into the middle of next week if he dared question the quality of my food!" She winked.

The meal continued with many varied conversations going back and forward. Just as they were finishing dessert, a mouth-watering coconut and pineapple mousse served with slices of fresh pineapple, Moody leaned towards Harry.

"Want a few words in private, Harry. Meet me in the parlour in half-an-hour."

"O.K." said Harry but nervously.

Eleanor's voice carried over all other conversations as she said "Your Grandmother isn't using the floo network these days is she Neville? It's so dangerous, never know where you'll come out!"

"No Auntie." Replied Neville. "We've had the house taken off the network all together on Professor Dumbledore's advice."

"Quite right too! Did you come by Knight Bus then?" asked Moody.

"Yes. It's slower but safer." Replied Neville.

"I told you Eleanor. You really need to get your floo connection blocked." Insisted Moody.

"Yes, Yes. You've already explained why. I'm still thinking about it. Now if you've all finished we can clear the table."

Harry stood and gathered up the dirty plates and cutlery and took them through to the kitchen and Neville followed suit. As they reached the sink Neville let out a small "Oh!" as he dropped his plate and it smashed on the stone floor.

"Sorry." Muttered Neville as he stooped to pick up the shards.

"Don't just stand there Potter. Fix it!" Challenged Moody.

"But I …!" started Harry who intended to protest that he didn't have a wand. Moody however had other thoughts.

"… don't need a wand! You fixed that mug you smashed. Fix this! Come on boy. Think. You know you can do it. Concentrate. Build an image in your mind then create the reality."

Everyone in the room was holding their collective breaths. Harry stood and looked down at the broken plate; slowly he held out his hands, the pieces moved together like a jigsaw puzzle and then rose in the air to land, good-as-new, in Harry's outstretched palms.

"Good Lord!" Said Eleanor.

"Amazing." Said Neville.

Harry just stood staring at the plate astonished at what he'd done.

"Didn't even need to say the spell!" said Moody a distinct note of pride in his voice.

Harry was still staring at the plate when Eleanor commanded. "Just stack all the dishes beside the sink for now. They can be washed later. Now Neville, have you got everything?"

"I think so. I only brought a little loose change and these." He held up his gardening gadget.

"Right then. Oh and you had better give Alexandra this." She handed Neville a wicker basket with a cover on it. He took it without saying a word. This, apparently, was part of the ritual between the two sisters. They cared very deeply for each other but refused to openly admit or show it.

"Come on then Neville, you'd best be off." Said Jenny as she opened the front door and she and Neville stepped outside. Harry went to join them on the front garden path but Moody stopped him.

"You're not allowed to cross the threshold yet Harry. You're still under house-arrest remember."

Harry nodded. He'd almost forgotten that his name in the wizarding world had yet to be cleared. He stood inside the house, raised a hand and shouted, "See you Neville. Take care. Give my best wishes to Luna!"

Neville raised his left hand in acknowledgement when the Knight Bus appeared with its usual bang! Just seconds after Neville had stuck out his wand hand.

Harry realised he hadn't even asked if Neville had gotten a new wand as his old one had been broken in the Department of Mysteries last June.

There was a second loud bang and the bus and Neville were gone.


	26. Questions and Answers

Chapter 26 : Questions and Answers 

Harry found himself steered by Moody back into the parlour. The bookcase at the end of the room stood open and the candlestick stood on the roll-top desk once more.

"Time to answer some of your questions." Said Moody as he picked up the candlestick and handed it to Harry. "Lead the way." He said gruffly following Harry down the stairs.

The wick burst into flame as soon as Harry had taken hold of the candlestick. With one hand on the smooth stone wall and the other holding the light aloft, Harry slowly descended into the cellar.

Now he wasn't skulking on the stairs, Harry was able to get a proper look around.

The chest, lectern and tapestry were there as before but now Harry could see the ancient fabric was moving slightly as if in a breeze.

"Come on Potter." Said Moody as he pulled the tapestry to one side. Behind it Harry could see row after row of high shelves that seemed to go on forever. It reminded Harry of the Room of Prophecy in the Department of Mystery and he felt a strange reluctant to enter.

From between two rows on the right-hand side stepped Eleanor. "It's alright Harry. You're perfectly safe. This vault is as secure as Gringotts and there's only the three of us in here."

For the first time Harry really saw Eleanor for what she was, a witch. Gone were the comfy shoes, old trousers and jumpers (her usual form of dress) in their place were deep green velvet robes embroidered with runes around the hem and on the bodice. Her long hair was braided and coiled on her head like a coronet.

She looked regal.

Eleanor took Harry's left hand in hers and encouraged him to enter the chamber.

"What is this place?" Harry whispered at last.

"These, Harry, are the genealogical records of every witch and wizard in the land. I am their Curator, Conservator and Archivist." Said Eleanor formally.

"That means she gets to spend most her time with dead people!" quipped Moody, elbowing Harry in the ribs.

Harry visibly relaxed and stepped towards the shelves.

"These shelves" explained Eleanor "tell the fascinating story of the wizarding people of which you are a part. Every birth, every marriage and every death are recorded in these pages. You can follow the fortunes – _and misfortunes_ – of every wizard and witch back through the years to their origins."

"But why are you showing me?" queried Harry.

"Because, Harry, your pedigree …" said Eleanor beginning to answer Harry's question.

Before she could continue Moody interrupted her, "Makes him sound like a damned show dog!"

Eleanor continued, "… Your pedigree goes back for over 1,000 to before the founding of Hogwarts itself."

Harry let out a slow whistle of astonishment.

"Although the Slytherins, Voldemort and his cronies are obsessed by purity of blood" interjected Moody "most of their families can only be traced back for a couple of hundred years at most. Before then there were far more mixed marriages that there are now. The Statute of Secrecy was written in the 1660s in the hope that if the two communities were kept apart that fewer witches and wizards would be blamed for all the ills plaguing the Muggle world. We all remember from our schooldays the story of Wendolyn the Weird and how she enjoyed being burnt at the stake. Unfortunately there is no way to pretend to survive a beheading, hanging or disembowelment. Dead is dead when all is said and done."

"Yes. Quite!" said Eleanor.

"But I still don't understand." Said Harry. "What's all this got to do with me?"

"As the Hall of Prophecy focuses on the future …"

"Possible future!" corrected Moody.

"OK. …_Possible_ future!" conceded Eleanor with a distinct scowl now. "Then this chamber records the _definite_ past. You have learned little of your father's family history since you re-entered the magic world, Harry. Here you can learn all about them and they can tell you of their triumphs and disasters. We use their knowledge in the hope that we do not repeat the mistakes they made."

Eleanor continued, "Among the books, certificates, scrolls and the like, are portraits who can impart first hand knowledge about each of their families."

"Like the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses that hang in Professor Dumbledore's office?" Said Harry with a thoughtful frown.

"Exactly." Exclaimed Eleanor and Moody simultaneously.

Harry had moved to stand between two rows of shelves; the row seemed to be infinite, stretching for miles. The chamber, he came to realise, was vast!

"How can one person possibly look after all this? Posed Harry.

"The answer to that question is quite simple." Explained Eleanor. "One person cannot. One person with a dedicated team of Specialist Elves can however."

"Elves! You had better not let Hermione know." Exclaimed Harry.

"Oh, these are not house elves, Harry. These are Specialist Elves. Back in the days of the Founders a wizarding family saved the lives of not just one family of elves but a whole tribe. In gratitude for their survival the family of the tribe chieftain swore an oath of eternal allegiance to the wizard family. To this day they serve the family but not as house elves, as specialist elves who care for this archive. Let me introduce you to the matriarch."

In a clear, precise voice Eleanor intoned, "Libby, come here please."

At these words a little old elf popped into being at Eleanor's side. On seeing Moody and Harry she bowed low to the ground. Harry could almost hear her old bones creaking.

"A pleasure to meet you noble sirs." Squeaked the aged elf.

"Libby, Harry here wishes to learn more about his family. Can you please direct him to the Potter family records." Eleanor spoke in a gentle voice.

"Certainly Mistress. Follow me please." Said the elf as she moved slowly away.

Row after row, aisle after aisle they walked until they came to a row where all the shelves were labelled POTTER. There were shelves and shelves of documents with parchment scrolls tucked in odd spaces. Dead boxes, files and books were stacked on shelves. There were portraits and cameos. Cups, trophies and shields. At then end of one row was a huge sword in an elaborate scabbard standing next to a suit of armour. Harry even thought he caught a glimpse of a dusty Penseive high on a shelf.

"Er… Libby, can I ask you something?" queried Harry tentatively.

"We is here to answer all questions young sir." Responded the elf.

"I mean, are _all_ these people my ancestors?" Harry indicated the shelves full of Potters.

"Indeed yes, sir. All Potters. Noble house, noble history, most ancient!"

Harry had gone from having virtually no knowledge of his wizarding ancestors to having so much it made his head hurt.

"Thank you for showing me this Libby, but I think I'd like to go back to Eleanor now." Said Harry feeling the start of a headache behind his eyes.

"As you wish young master." But instead of walking, Libby clicked her fingers and she and Harry were back beside Eleanor and Moody at the entrance to the archive.

Moody was smiling. "Made you walk all the way there and then…" Moody clicked his fingers "you're back here. It's just her way of showing off and demonstrating how extensive the archive really is."

"Let's go back upstairs. I'm in need of a brandy." Said Eleanor shivering.

In a very short while the three had returned to the warmth and comfort of the parlour. As the bookcase slid back into place Jenny came to join them. She was carrying a try with three mugs of hot chocolate.

"Didn't think you'd care for a hot drink Alastor. Cognac for you, yes?" said Jenny.

"You know me too well girl!" Moody chided gently.

"How could I not? You've been coming here since I was knee high to a grasshopper." She turned to address Harry as she handed him his mug – _without any brandy_. "It was Alston's influence that made me decide to become a Police Officer, Harry."

"It's a pity you didn't get to Hogwarts, you would have made a damn fine Auror in my opinion." Said Moody.

"That's what I want to do when I leave school. If I'm allowed back that is." Added Harry sadly.

"Speaking of Hogwarts… that friend of yours, Grainger, can't remember the last time I encountered a mind as sharp as hers, present company excepted." Said Moody with a small nod of acknowledgement to Eleanor. He continued, "She and Arthur and Molly's boy, Bill, have been able to isolate a wizards signature from the residue of magic shown in Priori Incantatem. Bill explained that they had to work out how to de-construct the spell. They then remove each element bit by bit and what you are left with is what each witch or wizard adds to make the spell work. It's the final and unique element originating with the spellcaster that allows them to trace who it was."

Jenny leaned forward in her chair enthusiastically "Is it like a fingerprint or retinal scan? Unique to each individual?"

"Exactly!" Enthused Moody. "The only draw back is that at the moment very few individual signatures are known."

"How few exactly?" asked Eleanor.

"Er. Just the Weasleys, Miss Grainger and me!" admitted Moody, grudgingly.

Harry could almost hear his bubble of hope 'pop' as it vanished. "That's it then." He muttered as he viciously poked the fire, his face turned away from the others to conceal his disappointment.

"Exactly!" said Moody but his voice was jubilant not depressed. "We can conclusively prove that you did not cast the Avada Kedavra curse on the Dursleys. What we cannot yet prove is _who did!"_

"What good is that though when Voldemort still has my wand!" moaned Harry as he threw the poker down onto the hearth with a clang.

"Harry…!" said Eleanor pleadingly.

"Sorry. It's just that …" began Harry but he didn't know how to explain.

"I know. You're given a straw to clutch at only to have it snatched away in the next second." Eleanor said in a calm and pacifying tone of voice.

"Well, that's why I wanted us all gathered here for." Said Moody. "I'm expecting some news on that front to come through any minute." He glanced at Eleanor oak-cased grandfather clock that stood against the wall next to the desk; as it struck 10 o'clock a burst of fire appeared in the centre of the room. As the flames disappeared a long red-gold phoenix tail feather floated gently to the floor. It was attached to a small scroll of parchment.

At Moody's behest Harry picked up the scroll and feather and handed them to the aged ex-Auror. Moody pulled out his wand and tapped the roll. The seal broke and the parchment unrolled.

"Good news, Alastor?" asked Eleanor.

"The best, old girl! Only the very best!" Said Moody. Harry's heart was beating fifteen to the dozen and he couldn't help it but his hopes were rising higher than ever.

"We received a coded message from Remus a few days ago," continued Moody with an all-too-rare smile on his misshapen face. "He was safe and… he'd managed to locate Sam!"

Harry was ecstatic; it was one of those wonderful occasions where he felt he could produce a World Class Patronus but Moody had more news to share. "Remus had planned to simply find Sam. It was then going to be the job of a separate team to actually go in and get him out. But that was not what happened."

"Well?" chorused Harry, Eleanor and Jenny.

"Well, one area in which Remus excels is in the art of reading people and gaining their confidence. Remus took his time and got to know the movements of the serving staff at Malfoy Manor. One of the kitchen staff was a young witch whose brother had not long become a werewolf. We don't know who bit him; it certainly wasn't Remus. The Malfoys didn't know about, or more likely didn't care about this young man's distress or the stress that it caused to his family. When Remus head of their plight he helped them understand what Lycanthropy is all about and how, with help, an almost normal life could be led."

As Moody continued with his story Eleanor, Jenny and Harry sat spellbound.

"Remus got Wolfsbane from Snape and stayed with the young man through his first change. They say the first change is the most painful due to the tearing of the muscles, tendons and sinews, as well as the lengthening of bones. Subsequent changes are apparently considerably easier."

Harry remembered most of this from the essay he had to write back in third year for Snape but it always saddened him when he thought what Remus had to endure each full-moon.

"The two young people asked Remus if there was anything they could do to repay him for his kindness and compassion," stated Moody who then sat back in his chair and slowly sipped his cognac.

"AND…?" Harry almost shouted at the aged Auror while kneeling on the heart rug and looking up into Moody's eyes.

"Alastor. Stop being so cruel," demanded Eleanor.

"Alright, alright. Well, Dumbledore had made a portkey to take Sam straight to the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Remus hoped to use it to rescue Sam but only if he could do so _without_ putting himself at risk. Well Cynthia – that's the girl's name – not only managed to get the portkey to Sam but she used it to get herself and her brother away from Malfoy too!"

"But Voldemort doesn't know yet does he?" added Harry with a grin.

"You tell me laddie? You tell me?" asked Moody, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"I don't think he can know 'cos he's gonna be madder than hell when he finds out and that's bound to trip the link." Stated Harry.

"The other bit of news you might be interested in is that as well as getting the portkey to Sam, she was also able to substitute the fake wand for your real one!"

That was it.

Good news overload.

Jenny and Harry both jumped up and they danced around the room like a couple of kids.

"Oh Alastor!" Eleanor was too choked up to say much more, tears were pouring down her cheeks.

"I'M FREE! I'M FREE!" Harry was screaming to the rooftops. Even Moody's twisted and scarred face was wearing a grin from ear to ear.

The joy was almost palpable but at that moment another burst of flame appeared with a second scroll.

"Not bad news this time I hope" said Eleanor.

"Nope, just a note from Dumbledore to confirm that Sam, Remus, Cynthia and Jonathan – that must be the werewolf and his sister – are all safe at Hogwarts. Safe but not so sound. Apparently their escape wasn't as trouble-free as we first thought." Moody looked up to see a look of panic on Harry's face.

"Remus is fine, his werewolf constitution helps there as was the case for Jonathan. Unfortunately Cynthia and Sam didn't get away quite so well."

Harry's mood had swung from one extreme to the other. Immediately he started berating himself for endangering Sam by simply becoming involved with him. Eleanor could see the path Harry was taking and gently placed one hand on his shoulder in support before saying to Moody, "Go on Alastor. How is Sam?"

"By all accounts his injuries seem mainly to stem from his incarceration in appalling conditions. He is mal-nourished and has infected sores on his wrists and ankles from the shackles used to restrain him. He also has pneumonia from being kept constantly cold and damp. Other than that, he's fine."

Before Harry could respond, Jenny asked "what about the girl? Cynthia?"

"Took a Reductor curse to her lower right leg. Foot's gone as is the shinbone. Most of the knee's damaged beyond healing. She's alive thought and should pull through."

The poker had been lying on the hearth; Harry picked it up and went to viciously prod the embers. Gently but firmly Eleanor took it from his hand and returned it to the stand.

"What happened to Cynthia has nothing to do with you Harry," stated Eleanor unequivocally.

"How can you say that?" challenged Harry, angrily. "If I hadn't…."

"These two young people have been able to break free from servitude at Malfoy Manor and start a new life. What's wrong with that?" asked Eleanor.

Harry could stay still no more. He was on his feet, running his hands through his hair repeatedly, and threatening to burn a hole in the hearthrug with his pacing back and forth.

"But she nearly died! And she's lost half of her bloody leg!" yelled Harry.

"So what?" stated Moody bluntly. "I lost a leg. Does that make me any less of a man?"

"No. Of course not, but…"

"But nothing. She's alive boy, she's young, she has her brother, who stands a better chance of survival now he's away from Voldemort and Malfoy, that means her life expectancy just about doubled!" She'll want to celebrate, not to commiserate. And you should too."

"I suppose." Muttered Harry dully.

"This is real life not a fairy tale where they all lived happily ever after," said Moody before adding gently "But you can see for yourself when you're back at Hogwarts."

"But I'm still under house-arrest aren't I? I mean, we've got my want back but that doesn't prove anything yet? Does it?" asked Harry tentatively looking at both Moody and Eleanor.

"Alastor, what if the Wizengamot don't accept Bill and Hermione's evidence? What will happen to Harry then?"

This question came from Jenny who had been sitting listening intently to everything that had been said.

"We'll cross that bridge when – and if – we come to it. No point in worrying yet," said Moody stoically.

"No point? No point?" repeated Harry as he recommenced his pacing. "I hate all this not knowing!"

"Ellie, do you have any of Poppy's Dreamless Sleep Potion left?" asked Moody quietly.

"Of course. I'll get it." Eleanor went to stand up but Jenny was up and walking to the door.

"Stay there, I'll get it" she said as she left the room. It only took a couple of minutes until she returned with the familiar bottle of purple potion.

"Go and get ready for bed, Harry. I'll bring this up to you shortly. Tonight you definitely need some dreamless sleep," said Jenny commandingly.

Harry wanted to protest that he wanted – _no, needed! – _to dream so he could talk to Ginny but, with Eleanor, Jenny and Moody on his case, he knew he stood no chance.

He dragged his weary body up to the bathroom next door to his bedroom. He leaned on the edge of the basin and stared at his reflection.

His tired brain combined the weary image in front of him with a classic 'wanted' poster and he could almost hear the voice of Uncle Vernon. _'Look at him, long-haired layabout. Always knew he was no good. Jail's the only place he belongs' _A second later Harry could have sworn he heard Aunt Petunia add, _'Good riddance to bad rubbish I say.'_ Aunt Marge's voice concluded: '_always said bad blood will out!'_

Harry gripped the edge of the sink as the pain in his head grew and grew. He screamed out in pain.

It was akin to being held under the Cruciatus Curse.

Harry clamped his jaws together and the muscles in his neck stood out like tight ropes. He threw back his head and screamed.

He screamed long and he screamed loud.

In the dim distance he could hear banging, people's voices but the screaming inside his head drowned the sounds out.

Then silence and Harry knew no more.

* * *

A/N : Sorry for the lack of update last week but I have been ill for the last month and was completely 'out of it' on Monday. 


	27. One Good Turn

Chapter 27 : One Good Turn 

Beep! Beep! Beep!

"So this gadget only works where you can 'plug it in'? Is that right?"

Harry still had his eyes shut but he was certain he knew that voice.

"Well this one is designed for use with mains supply, yes, but there are portable ones that use a re-chargeable power pack. They can be used anywhere, on top of a mountain or even out at sea."

Harry knew that voice too. But… they shouldn't be talking to each other! Now he was totally confused. He tried to open his eyes but was not able to. He reached a hand up to his face and his fingers found bandages over his eyes.

"What's happened?" Harry tried to speak but he only made rasping noises. His visitors realised his plight.

"Harry, it's OK. You're going to be fine." He felt a soft hand take his own. The words were the voice he wanted to hear above all others.

It was Ginny.

"Here, let's sit you up a bit, there's no need for you to lie down now," these words, comfortingly familiar, were spoken by Madame Pomfrey. Harry obeyed without question.

"Drink this love, it's only a cup of tea but it will help soothe your throat," coaxed Ginny. "Don't try and speak yet. I'll try and tell you what's happened, OK? Just nod your answer."

Again Harry obeyed, nodding only once as the pain made him unwilling to repeat the action and he screwed up his forehead as he reached for the cup of tea and sipped it. His throat felt easier but still very sore.

Ginny continued, "your throat is sore because as you screamed you tore your vocal chords. Madame Pomfrey has repaired them but she wants you to say silent for a couple of days at least. Nod if you understand."

Reluctantly Harry nodded his consent and continued to sip his tea but he felt that there was something more and that Ginny was hesitant to say. After a few minutes searching for the right words she said, "Now your eyes, Harry, are something else again."

Harry was aware that his pulse had started racing. "We don't know exactly what happened but when Mad-Eye, Eleanor and Jenny got into the bathroom both your eyes were bleeding. They don't know if your sight is affected but you also took a blow to the back of your head when you fell. It looks like you hit the edge of the bath. Again they want to leave the dressings on for a couple of days. You had another concussion and that's got to be checked out." Added Ginny as she took the now empty cup from Harry's hands and placed it on his bedside cabinet.

"I take it that Voldemort discovered Sam's escape then?" Harry nodded once more. "I won't ask anymore questions, it's obvious you are still in a lot of pain and nodding isn't helping. Harry, love, why don't you go back to sleep. I'm dead beat as I've sat up next to you for the past two nights. I'll tell you all that has happened in a little while. OK?" Harry smiled instead of nodding, it was really more of a grimace but Ginny understood regardless and helped him to lie flat again. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. Warmth flooded through their bodies and Harry drifted off almost immediately.

_----zzzzzz----_

_When Harry opened his eyes Ginny was sitting next to his bed exactly where he thought she would be. He gently ran his fingers through her long silky hair and Ginny 'woke up' and stretched her arms out in front of her._

"_Hello sleepy head."_

"_You'd be sleepy too if you had a boyfriend who kept getting himself injured, and you spent hours at a time sitting waiting for him to wait up," muttered Ginny, yawning widely._

_Sheepishly Harry replied "Sorry."_

"_Oh, don't get me wrong Harry, I'm not blaming you. You didn't choose to be Number 1 on Voldemort's hit list."_

"_On what?" asked Harry, thoroughly perplexed._

"_Oh, it's just a phrase I picked up in muggle studies. Anyway, are you going to lie there like Lord Muck or are you going to show me around properly? I didn't see much last time I was here." Ginny challenged as she stood and stretched her aching back muscles._

_Harry threw back the bedclothes to find he was already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and a pair of trainers was on the floor waiting to be put on._

"_I like this dream world of ours. We can make anything real if we want to. The best bit though is having you in it with me." As he stood up Harry slipped his arms around Ginny's waist. He rang his fingers through her hair once more - he didn't think he'd ever tire of doing that – and turned her head gently as he bent down and kissed her lips._

_After a minute Harry realised he could taste tears that were trailing silently from Ginny's eyes and could feel her trembling._

"_I… I thought I was going to lose you. After all you'd been through. It seemed so unfair!" Ginny was distraught but Harry didn't understand._

"_What do you mean loose me?"_

"_Harry, Voldemort nearly killed you!"_

"_But I thought…?"_

"_When Mad-Eye got the door open you were lying unconscious on the floor. There was blood everywhere. It was pouring from your eyes, out of your mouth and from a great gash on the back of your head!"_

"_Well that explains the king-size headache I woke up with." Harry tried to lighten the mood a little but Ginny was having none of it._

"_Don't!" She said, her annoyance all too evident which made Harry feel guilty at making light of her anxiety._

"_Sorry love. It's just all too familiar, you know?" said Harry apologetically._

"_Doctor McGregor's been working with Madame Pomfrey to tray and work out what's wrong with your eyes."_

"_Doctor McGregor? You mean Harry?" said Harry._

"_Harry? Is that his name? Jenny just said a friend of hers who is a Doctor. Apparently when he got the call saying you needed help he said 'One good turn deserves another'. Do you have any idea what he meant?"_

"_You could say that but first what happened after Mad-Eye got the door open?"_

"_Well, Eleanor fire-called Madame Pomfrey and she flooed straight over but at the same time Jenny had rung Harry on his – mobile, is that right?" Harry nodded is confirmation and Ginny continued, "Well he was just passing and turned up while they were still talking."_

"_Just passing! Who's he kidding?" smiled Harry._

"_Anyway, Jenny had just shown him into the parlour when Madame Pomfrey comes through the floo!"_

"_You're joking?" said Harry a whopping great grin plastered on his face. "What'd he do?"_

"_Well Jenny had apparently told Harry that her grandmother was a little eccentric so he thought Poppy was her and, cool as you like, he sticks out his hand and introduces himself. 'So pleased to meet you,' he says and gives Poppy a kiss on the cheek."_

"_At that moment Eleanor came in from the garden through the French doors."_

_By now Harry was doubling up laughing. "Oh, I wish I'd seen that! But what did Madame Pomfrey do?"_

"_She stayed as calm as ever and said 'an interesting bedside manner Doctor. Is this how you treat all your colleagues?' but Jenny swears she saw her blush."_

"_I wish I'd been awake to see that." Said Harry._

"_Eleanor asked if he had any French blood in him but before he could answer Jenny grabbed his arm and dragged him up to the bathroom."_

"_What then? Asked Harry._

"_Then it was all business. Harry was astonished when Madame Pomfrey used a basic evanesco spell to clear away all the blood so she could see the wounds clear. At the same time Harry was checking you over and was worried about your very slow pulse. Poppy used a diagnostic spell and said there was no internal bleeding but there was another bad concussion."_

"_Gin, the way you tell all this, are you sure you weren't there? It certainly sounds as though you were," asked Harry curiously._

"_I certainly feel as though I was. It's just that I got Jenny to tell me every minute detail she could remember while we were sitting at your bedside waiting for you to come round."_

"_Oh, I see. Sorry" said Harry sadly._

"_Stop apologising for goodness sake! You didn't ask for this to happen nor did you provoke it. It's just typical Tom, isn't it? You know sometimes I swear he almost gets jealous of what we've got and he can never know." _

"_But the only thing he wants is power and immortality."_

_Ginny astonished Harry when she replied, "The only way to immortality, in my opinion, is by bringing children into the world. The only true power is the power of love. That's a power Tom can search for but will never find."_

_As she finished speaking Ginny started to blush and went to turn away from Harry, embarrassed by her own mentioning of children and love._

"_You got good looks and brains Miss Weasley, a very sexy combination!" said Harry as he embraced her from behind and nuzzled the side of her neck. Ginny turned around and snaked her arms around Harry's neck._

"_I also have got a gorgeous boyfriend!" said Ginny as she went up on tiptoe to kiss Harry playfully on the tip of his nose. _

_At this gesture Harry pretended to swoon theatrically but the gesture backfired – big time!_

"_Oh, don't Harry. Not even pretending." The tears were back. This time Harry just held her close until her breathing slowed back to normal._

"_I didn't think."_

"_No. You didn't." Ginny scolded._

"_How am I doing anyway? Can you bear to tell me?"_

_Slipping back into a practical-mode seemed to help. "The concussion isn't much to worry about, Poppy saw to that. Your throat should heal OK as long as you refrain from speaking and gargle with the Lavinia Lovegood's Larynx Lotion three times a day. Poppy left a huge bottle but I'm glad it's you and not me that have to take it. That stuff's foul. Mum always made us use it whenever we got a sore throat." Ginny grimaced at the memory._

_Harry then asked the question to which he was dying to know the answer – dying and dreading! "Gin. What about my eyes?"_

"_Oh, Harry. They just don't know. Poppy says it's one area of medicine where muggles seem better than wizards."_

"_But what seems wrong with them? Do they work or will I be blind?"_

"_They have no idea. Poppy said her results were' inconclusive' whatever that means. Harry said that the cornea, I think he called it, can be replaced if need be and so too the lens. If the nerve is damaged though it's a different story."_

"_What do you mean?" asked Harry._

"_Well magical eyes like Mad-eye's only work if the nerve is OK. If it's not…!" Harry didn't need Ginny to finish her sentence._

* * *

Sorry for thedelay in uploading of the new chapter, as it is both delayed and shorter than normal I've decided to upload the next chapter as well...

Rosy


	28. Reunion

Chapter 28 : Reunion 

To a lot of people the chance to do nothing but lie in bed all day would be a dream come true. For one Harry James Potter, however, it was a nightmare. He just was not accustomed to prolonged periods of inactivity and he found the lack of stimulus very irksome indeed.

What made matters worse was that tomorrow was the 1st of September and the Weasleys and Hermione, would be returning to school. It had somehow seemed easier to ignore the approach of the start of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts while he had been a fugitive. The first of September had no relevance for someone who did not expect to be allowed to remain free let alone go back to school.

In their shared dreams Harry and Ginny had by mutual though unspoken consent, refused to acknowledge that fateful date. Although they would be separated by hundreds of miles, as soon as they fell asleep they would be together. Unfortunately Harry's sleep pattern was now much disturbed as he had difficulty differentiating between day and night.

The first time Harry had slept through the day he became quite panic-struck when Ginny didn't appear. He woke up yelling and both Eleanor and Jenny had to calm Harry down with assurances that as it was 10 at night, Ginny had not yet retired for the night. And when she did, then Ginny got agitated when Harry didn't appear!

The one who suffered most through all of this was in fact Jenny. As a serving police officer, Jenny had to work in shifts and when she worked the night shift she was usually asleep in the daytime.

Madame Pomfrey and Dr. McGregor had been co-ordinating their efforts to try and restore Harry's sight but neither had any experience of damage caused to the eyes as a result of a long-distance curse.

Who had?

There was no recorded instance of anyone surviving a killing curse, other than Harry, therefore there were no previous histories to which to relate.

While the two medics spent hours ploughing through textbooks and case histories, Harry had been trying to occupy his time in a number of ways.

His favourite was, by far, being asleep which meant being with Ginny. Harry was trying to keep to a more normal daily routine, which meant rising at 8 am, and not sleeping until at least 10pm. While this meant spending a good deal of time with Ginny it also meant that Harry had to occupy the 14 hours he was awake.

Once again Hermione came to the rescue. Apparently she had discovered a little-used charm back in their third year that enabled her to continue her studies when everyone was asleep. Professor McGonagall taught the charm to Hermione and now Hermione had passed on the knowledge to Harry.

It was really quite simple. First the chosen book was held in the left hand; an incantation of 'dictatorium' was spoken as the spine was tapped three times with the wizard's wand point whilst focusing on a particular voice. When the book was next opened and the witch or wizard placed their hand on a page of text, it would be read aloud in the chosen voice.

The first book Hermione had selected had been the new transfiguration text Advanced Transfiguration, Volume 6, by Emeric Switch. The charm had worked and now whenever Harry opened it and placed his hand on the text he could hear Hermione's voice explaining the theory of the NEWT level charms.

Harry didn't study this book very much as he always felt depressed when he thought that if he his sight didn't return then he would be unable to complete his studies.

The day after Hermione's visit, Harry had borrowed Eleanor's wand and charmed 'Chasing with the Cannons,' a volume about Ron's favourite Quidditch team and just for fun he'd selected Ron's voice.

Now he had a small library of talking books, ranging from 'The Quidditch World Cup, a detailed history from 1400 to the present day (narrated by Lee Jordan) to Stealth and Tracking: a Practical Guide for First Year Aurors (with narration by Tonks).

As enjoyable as it was to sit and listen to histories, anecdotes and guidance, Harry felt physically frustrated.

That was until Jenny suggested Harry use her gym equipment in the conservatory.

By this time Harry's feet were fully healed and his other injuries – apart from his eyes – were healed as well as they were going to get. When Harry asked Madame Pomfrey if he could work out on the equipment she took a good amount of time examining the strange muggle contraptions before giving her consent.

Just one week into his new routine of spending most of his mornings in Jenny's Gym and Harry could be found on the exercise bike. He had been riding for about 15 minutes when he became aware that he was being watched.

"Good morning, Madame Pomfrey, Dr. McGregor. Would you please introduce your guest as I don't think we've met before."?

"Morning Harry," came Dr. McGregor's voice. "May I introduce you to Mr. Pearson, he's an ophthalmic specialist and I would like his opinion as to your eye problem."

"Pleased to meet you Mr. Pearson." Harry wiped his hands on the towel that he had draped around his neck and held out his hand in welcome. A firm but gentle grip was received from the newcomer.

"Harry said its Mr. Pearson, does that mean you're not a Doctor?"

The answer came from a warm, melodious and slightly bemused voice. "No, Mr. Potter, in medical circles when a Doctor becomes a surgeon the title Doctor is replaced by Mister. I know it's a little confusing but there you are. It's tradition I suppose."

"Oh, right." replied Harry.

"Can I ask you something Harry?" the question came from Dr. McGregor this time. "How did you know that there we had arrived and that there was someone new with us?"

"I don't really know. I hadn't heard you or anything. This bike is too noisy to hear much over the top of it and Jenny had lent me this." Harry pointed at a portable cassette player that was clipped to the waistband on Harry's tracksuit bottoms; the earpiece was still in Harry's right ear.

"So what made you aware then?" The question this time came from Mr. Pearson but Eleanor entered the room and rapidly changed the subject.

"Gentlemen, it's Mr. Potter's eyes that you have come to examine. Not his ears. We'll go through to the kitchen. Harry you'd better get yourself sorted out and then join us."

"Yes ma'am." Harry answered obediently.

Fifteen minutes later, after a quick shower and change of clothes, Harry joined the three medics and Eleanor at the big table in the kitchen. Madame Pomfrey was talking to her colleagues in an assured and professional tone. "… no point in continuing to keep the eyes bandaged. There was no infection to be treated, therefore there was no point whatsoever in keeping the dressings on. The cornea appears undamaged but has become opaque and lets no light through whatsoever."

Dr. McGregor stated, "But the colour? I've never seen eyes like it. Have you Richard?"

Harry McGregor sat back and let his colleague take a closer look.

"Harry, I'm going to examine your eyes now but I'd like to put some drops in first to dilate the pupils." Said the surgeon. Harry instinctively turned to his school nurse for confirmation.

She nodded her head and Harry said "OK then." Before Madame Pomfrey had a chance to open her mouth.

The very thorough examination of Harry's eyes lasted for over an hour at the end of which he was screwing up his face as a headache was forming. "I'm sorry Madame Pomfrey but I'm really not feeling too good," said Harry apologetically. "I think I need to lie down for a while." Harry stood slowly and carefully and made his way not to his bed but to the big couch in front of the fire in Eleanor's sitting room.

Grabbing the crocheted blanket and patchwork pillow, Harry made himself comfortable and he soon drifted off to sleep.

----zzzz----

_He was standing at the end of a dimly lit chamber; the walls and floor were lost in the greenish gloom that filled the all too familiar cavern. The odd thing was that Harry could see the remains of the dead Basilisk and even the ink staining the floor from Riddle's diary._

_But what was he doing here?_

_In the first few months after his rescue of Ginny, Harry had often dreamed of being back here but usually he saw Riddle and the giant snake and he'd fought the battle time after time. On those occasions Harry usually woke up drenched in sweat clutching an invisible sword in his outstretched hand._

_This time, however, he had arrived in the Chamber after the defeat of Riddle and the basilisk._

_Harry walked slowly around the chamber and noticed something he'd never seen before. There was an archway to one side of the main chamber. Two serpents twined up each side supporting pillar, their heads interlocking at the top. Harry stepped through the arch and saw a narrow passageway leading down even deeper beneath the castle. The floor was littered with greenish crystals that caught and reflected the little light that entered that place._

_The passageway spiralled downwards until, at last, it opened into a hexagonal chamber lit by a single huge brazier suspended by chains over the symbol carved in the very centre of the floor._

_Around the walls were numerous intricate images. Harry recognised some of the creatures depicted from his Monster Book of Monsters. Some showed scenes of battles._

_The wall directly opposite Harry as he entered, showed a group of six people. Above them was a pennant with three words upon it. The pennant was moving as though it were moving in the wind and Harry was just able to make out 'HAGI LUNE HERO'. But what did it mean?_

_Harry was still puzzling over the three words when he heard a familiar but unearthly sound._

_Phoenix song._

_A flash of fire momentarily lit the entire chamber then Harry was able to see in his midst a beautiful bird. A phoenix. The size of a swan but with beautiful red-gold plumage._

_The phoenix walked slowly to the centre of the chamber. The symbol on the floor was an eye set within a triangle. The all-seeing eye. The same symbol Harry had seen carved on the bottom of Eleanor's glass Penseive._

_The bird behaved as though Harry were invisible for it made no acknowledgement of his presence; instead it let out one long, beautiful note that hung in the air like a frost. Then it stretched out its neck and spread its wings before unmistakably bowing low to the ground._

_It was then that Harry realised that the phoenix was crying into the centre of the eye carved on the floor. Each tear fell with a resounding plop as Harry noticed for the first time that the pupil was hollow like a bowl and that the phoenix was crying another single pearly tear into its depths._

_It's task complete, the bird bowed its head once more before disappearing in a second burst of fire._

----zzzz----

Harry awoke slowly, almost lazily. He knew Eleanor was standing watching him even though he couldn't see her.

"If you've returned to the land of the living, Harry, come and have a bite to eat. You must be starving."

At those words Harry's stomach gave a groan of protest at being empty.

"Mmm. Hungry enough to eat a hippogriff." Harry said as he stretched his arms above his head.

"Not literally, I hope," added Eleanor with a twinkle in her voice.

Harry stood and Eleanor took his hand and placed it on her left elbow. The first time she'd done this it had puzzled Harry but he quickly learned that this way he could feel Eleanor's movements much better than having his hand on her arm.

They entered the kitchen and Harry could smell the leek and potato soup they were having with thick slices of crusty bread, newly baked. It was delicious and surprisingly filling but he still found room for a slice of coffee and walnut cake and some fresh fruit.

The two Doctors had left but Madame Pomfrey stayed for lunch. It was by now three in the afternoon. The front door opened and a very tired Jenny entered.

"I'm starving. What's for eating?" Said Jenny by way of a greeting. Harry had stayed seated at the table talking to Jenny who managed to talk between mouthfuls.

He had been horrified to learn that the Dementors, after the chaos of his trial, were now roaming wild and indiscriminately attacking wizards and muggles alike. More than sixteen innocent muggles had been kissed so far. Theories to the cause of the strange condition of the poor victims ranged from simple viruses (something akin to meningitis) through new so-called recreational drugs that had gone drastically wrong, leaving their users in a vegetative state. Everyone agreed that this rumour at least did have the positive benefit of discouraging young people from trying drugs – an unexpected bonus.

Unfortunately one of the more common rumours was that it was from a new weapon being developed by terrorists. _The_ _Daily Prophet_ reported that the Dementor attacks were mainly in the east of England but that witches and wizards everywhere should endeavour to master the Patronus Charm.

The Ministry of Magic were endeavouring to provide an emergency portkey for every witch and wizard in the country but were doing so alphabetically. Harry thought it should have been done county-by-county starting in the area where most attacks had occurred. But no, that was too logical for the Ministry of Magic, thought Harry with more than a little cynicism.

The main problem, however, was how to defend the Muggle population.

The Ministry couldn't propose measures on how to protect Muggles without breaking it's own Statute of Secrecy; what they could do was send in a team of Aurors in a bid to return the Dementors to Azkaban but this time as inmates not guards.

Dumbledore would like to see the Dementors removed utterly from the face of the earth but the magical community had yet to find a way to achieve this goal.

As Jenny finished her lunch, Eleanor came back into the kitchen to make some tea. Harry wanted to know whether the three medics had come to any conclusion about his eyes and any possible treatment but at the same time he was scared to ask. Eleanor sensed his dilemma however, and with her usual adroitness, resolved it.

"Sorry Harry, they couldn't think of anything that would be an appropriate treatment. They agreed that both of your corneas have become opacified but as to its cause, they have no idea. Cataracts they know how to treat. It's an irreversible that without treatment can cause blindness. In your case however, they believe that you may not have permanent blindness, as it seems to be as a direct result of trauma. Whether your body will be able to heal itself they cannot confirm but they're not prepared to rule it out either."

At that point Madame Pomfrey came back into the room. She obviously heard Eleanor's comments to Harry and added, "Don't give up Harry. We have other avenues to investigate and I know Professor Snape …"

At the mention of his detested potions master, Harry gave a snort of derision. He couldn't help it.

"Now, now, Harry. Don't be like that. I am fully aware of how little love there is between you and Professor Snape but I can confirm that on at least three separate occasions lately I have had to … what's the Muggle term? Oh yes … 'pull rank' on him and force him to rest. He has been researching and developing new portions in a concerted effort to restore your sight," continued Madame Pomfrey. "You may not think he cares but you are a Hogwarts student and for that reason alone he will do all he can – and that is saying a lot. He is one of the foremost Potions Magi there is. His skills far exceed Dumbledore's in that area and I have no fear that Dumbledore would contradict me in that sentiment."

"Speak of the devil," said Eleanor as Dumbledore himself stepped into the room.

"Good afternoon ladies, Harry. Ah I see that I am just in time for a nice cup of tea." The headmaster seated himself opposite Harry and proceeded to scrutinise him thoroughly while Eleanor poured him a cup of tea.

"Thank you. Ah, just as I like it, hot, strong and only a little milk but definitely no sugar." He sipped his tea slowly knowing full well that the eyes of everyone in the room were upon him. Including Harry's.

"How are you today Harry?" asked Dumbledore. As soon as he had spoken he vanished silently, re-appearing a moment later at the door to the sitting room.

Without any hesitation Harry turned and looked once more straight at the headmaster. "As well as can be expected, thank you sir," said Harry, trying to be as polite as possible.

Once more Dumbledore vanished only to re-appear elsewhere in the large kitchen. Again Harry turned and looked him in the eyes.

Now everyone in the room was staring open-mouthed at Harry.

"Tell me, Harry, what you can see in front of you?" Dumbledore spoke quietly but the command was unmistakable.

"I can't see anything, sir," Harry said after a barely perceptible hesitation.

"Harry, I want you to do precisely what I ask and try not to hesitate. I want you to focus on me and tell me what colour I am. Don't think about it – just say it."

"You are yellow and brown," said Harry without any hesitation.

"How about Eleanor?" the Headmaster asked with a hint of a smile on his face. Harry turned his head without thought or hesitation. "Eleanor is pink and lilac."

Madame Pomfrey gave a gasp of incredulity and said, "Dumbledore, you can't mean…?" but before she could continue the Headmaster held up a hand to silence her.

"Now again, Harry. What colour is Madame Pomfrey?"

This time the headmaster could not keep the twinkle from his eye on the grin from his face as Harry replied "Green and brown sir, but why do you ask?"

Dumbledore answered Harry's question by posing another of his own. "Tell me, Harry, has Madame Pomfrey always been these colours?"

"Yes sir. Ever since I was first in the hospital wing, back in first year." Harry was becoming increasingly annoyed that his question was being ignored.

Dumbledore just asked yet another question of his own. "Have you ever mentioned to anyone that you associated particular colours and colour combinations to different people? Think carefully, Harry, before you answer, this could be very important."

"Er, no. I don't think so. Why? Surely everyone does it, don't they?" Harry was getting more mystified and annoyed by the minute.

"Oh, Albus. I know we've always said Harry had Lily's eyes but I never dreamed…" Madame Pomfrey's excitement was almost palpable.

Dumbledore spoke quite calmly once more "Harry please forgive me but I have a few last questions that I would like to ask and then I were endeavour to answer any questions – and I feel certain that you have more than a few – you care to ask."

Harry felt like screaming and he knew his temper was barely held in check but he was determined to keep his cool and so he said calmly, "OK sir."

"Do you have any difficulty moving around Hill House, Harry?"

"No sir. Eleanor and Jenny are very careful to not move chairs and things so I know where they are. I've been here long enough to know my way around safely."

"One last question, Harry. When you get up to use the bathroom at night are you in the habit of using a light or not?" asked Dumbledore.

"Don't usually bother, don't want to disturb anyone." Harry answered but the puzzlement on his face was obvious.

"Well I think a few more tests may be necessary …" but before Dumbledore could continue Harry groaned aloud causing both Eleanor and Madame Pomfrey to screw up their faces in silent admonishment. "… But that can wait for another day. Yes, indeed it can."

Dumbledore sat once more at the table as he continued, "Now, Harry I have some good news for you and it makes a very pleasant change for me to be able to tell you something that will hopefully, put a smile on your face."

Harry could hardly contain his excitement. "What is it sir? Why were you asking about the colours?"

"Your mother, Harry, was a very remarkable woman in many ways. She possessed a very rare gift, one which set her apart and which proved to be both blessing and curse to her. The colours that you 'see' Harry - and yes I use the term quite deliberately in this context – are only visible to you because you have apparently inherited your mother's gift. The colours are a person's aura. It surrounds them and comes from deep within them. Each individual creates their own aura but they do so on a sub-conscious level and therefore cannot change or modify it. The colours indicate what is truly felt or believed."

"And my mum saw the same as me? Does that mean you can't see the colours? I thought everyone could so I never thought to mention it." Harry said, pleased to be getting some answers at last.

"Imagine, Harry, what it would be like to be able to see colour when everyone else could only see black and white. What a rare gift it would be. Well this gift is a little like that. It is my belief that your perception has become heightened as your normal vision has been blocked."

The headmaster could no longer hide his joy. "Harry your mother would be overjoyed to know you have inherited this gift. I recall she was able to see a subtle change in someone's aura if they were lying to her. That was one time your father wished she were an ordinary witch."

"Tell me, sir, did Sirius know? About my mum's gift that is," asked Harry, nervously.

"Alas no, Harry. Your mother and father kept Lily's talent to themselves and I would most strongly urgent you to do the same. Let as few people as possible know for it would be a talent that could be miss-used in many ways. I have no doubt that Voldemort would not hesitate to use such a gift to further his own plans and agenda." Dumbledore added to emphasise the seriousness of the matter, "he must not know."

Harry nodded his silent understanding. His mind went to Ginny and their times together, they shared everything now. Would it be safe to share this? He posed the question to his headmaster. "Sir. What about Ginny? Should I tell her or not? I don't want to put her at increased risk but I don't know that I could keep this from her?"

Yet again Dumbledore answered one question by posing another. "When you meet with Miss Weasley, Harry, is it normally in a place of her choosing or yours?"

Harry had to think hard before replying, "It's nearly always me that chooses then Ginny joints me. Sometimes she's somewhere special to her and I join her. Why? Is it important?" asked Harry.

"And what about your last dream? Did you or Miss Weasley choose?"

It was almost as though Dumbledore knew before Harry had a chance to answer.

"Actually I didn't see Ginny at all," he said before going on to explain in detail his last dream.

At the end of his narration Eleanor stood and left the room for a few moments, returning with a large leather-bound book with a lock securely fastening it. Eleanor tapped the lock with her wand and it opened immediately. She turned to Harry and asked, "Can you repeat the three words you saw carved in the hexagonal chamber for me."

"HAGI, LUNE, HERO," said Harry "but I have no idea what they meant." He still felt he had more questions than answers.

After a moment's silence, Dumbledore asked, "Harry, are you certain that the phoenix that you saw was Fawkes?"

Now it was Harry's turn to answer a question with a question. "I suppose it could have been another phoenix but there can't be too many of them can there sir?"

"No. Not too many. In fact it is believed that the appearance of a phoenix heralds a time of great change. Fawkes first came to me shortly before the rise of Grindelwald. He was a great comfort to me through many dark and difficult days. Curiously, Harry, the first time I saw Fawkes was in a dream. He showed me one possible course of action and his guidance has proved a great boon ever since. I would be very interested, Harry, to learn if this phoenix appears to you in any other dreams."

It was all getting to be too much. Strange new gifts. Weird words carved on stone walls and now a phoenix!

"Professor, I've just thought of something. Do you think that phoenix tears could restore my sight?"

"Good lord. Why didn't we think of it sooner?" came the exclamation from Madame Pomfrey.

"Albus, do you think it would work?" came Eleanor tentative query.

"I can see no reason why not. But it would perhaps be prudent to conduct some research first." Eleanor, Harry and Madame Pomfrey all made to protest at that suggestion and the headmaster silenced them with a raised hand.

"Fawkes has previously healed Harry from a life-threatening injury. I need to be sure that a further application of phoenix tears would not interact with any residue in Harry's system. Please be patient. I will let you know as soon as I can, after all I know how keen Harry is to return to school to resume his potions lesions with Professor Snape."

Harry's response to Dumbledore's statement was a heartfelt groan.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers... hope you are all keeping well. My recent poor health has made it difficult to type up chapters but I have been writing quite copiously. Have now completed 13 chapters of the Second Volume of BoA.

Rosy


	29. Epilogue to Volume I – Prologue to Volum...

Chapter 29 : Epilogue to Volume I – Prologue to Volume II 

"Come on Harry! What's keeping you? We're only going to Diagon Alley not Timbuktu or Outer Mongolia!" Tonks' not so dulcet tones reverberted around Hill House disturbing Jenny who was trying to sleep after a long and difficult night shift.

Eleanor came bustling out of the kitchen and scolded Tonks soundly but almost silently. "For Merlin's sake girl, have a bit of consideration. Jenny's only been in bed for an hour. Give her a chance to get to sleep please. She can't cast a silencing charm on her room and she flatly refuses to let me do it. Worries in case something happens and she doesn't hear it. Hah! As if I'm going to let anything happen at my time of life!"

"Or with your experience, eh Eleanor?" Said Tonks, giving Eleanor a conspiratorial wink. "Why just the other day Mad-Eye was telling me…" but Tonks didn't get a chance to finish her sentence. Harry was walking down the stairs ready for their trip to Diagon Alley on the Knight Bus.

"I don't know why we can't just floo to The Leaky Cauldron, it's much quicker." Moaned Harry petulently, sounding much more like the teenager he was than he normally did.

"You know why, Harry. The network is still too risky, don't want to lose you again eh?" said Eleanor who was bustling around Harry à la Molly Weasley. Tonks was just standing at the foot of the stairs with her mouth open, plainly staring at Harry. It was a while before Harry realised what she was doing.

"What?" questioned Harry.

Tonks impersonated a goldfish some more. Harry checked his flies.

"Tonks, are you OK?"

Eleanor started giggling and that finally filtered through to Tonks brain where nothing else had. "Eh? Oh, sorry Harry. I was miles away. You ready to go then?" asked a rather red-faced Tonks.

"Oh, hang on. I nearly forgot my book list." With that Harry turned and ran back upstairs taking the steps two at a time.

"Eleanor! You could have warned me." Tonks was fuming at the older woman.

"Don't blame me. It was Jenny's doing not mine. I don't think Harry has a clue but I think our Ginny'll have to keep the competition away with a big stick…"

"…or her infamous bat bogey hex." Finished Tonks before adding with emphasis "He's gorgeous!"

"I suspect Albus knew that the phoenix tears would not only restore Harry's sight but correct it too but he was wary of building his hopes up in case it didn't work. Without those horrid glasses you can really see how beautiful his eyes are. I feel like I'm falling in them every time I look at him."

"I suppose the new hair cut and clothes don't exactly hurt much either. Jenny's influence again?" sighed Tonks.

"The pair of them were only out for a couple of hours. First thing was the hair cut and then Harry told Jenny what fun he'd had in the charity shops in Ramsgate so he dragged her to all the shops in town. That leather jacket he's wearing was only £10 and almost brand new. Don't know why he insisted on everything being black though. He says it's to make life easier but I think it's really for Ginny." Commented Eleanor, sagely.

"Does suit him though, what with the new hair cut he looks more like 20 than 16." Seeing Harry come back down the stairs, Tonks added "Are you sure you don't need anything while we are there Eleanor?"

"No thanks Tonks. Have fun you two!"

"Bye." Called Harry as, for only the second time since his arrest, he stepped out of Hill House through its front door.

* * *

Apology time again. Still health problems I'm afraid but I'm still writing like mad. Main problem is my 15 year old spending all his time on MSN Messenger chatting to his girlfriend as it leaves no time for poor old mum to get online.

Sorry Melinda, I know you don't like folks messing about with Harry's eyes... but it had to be done!


	30. Back on to the MerrygoRound

Don't quite know what happened last week but when I posted Chapter 30 (otherwise known as Volume 2 Chapter 1) something definitely went wrong... half of the chapter was missing. I only realised what had happened when I received quite a few reviews thinking I was taking this story off in the direction of a Harry/Tonks story! Fear not loyal readers, that ain't gonna happen.

So here - complete and unabridged - is the entire Chapter 30 - aka... (well I won't go into that again!)

**Volume 2 Chapter 1 : Back on to the Merry-go-Round **

It didn't feel like the start of a new school year to Harry, after all he was not going to journey to Hogwarts on the Hogwarts Express pulled by the great red steam-engine the Hogwarts Castle. Neither had he experienced the ritual panic as the Weasley family prepared for the departure to Kings Cross Station. One thing he didn't miss was the inevitable and predictable visit by Draco Malfoy and his two goons Crabbe and Goyle.

Instead of organised chaos Harry had been able to have a long lie in bed; enjoy a leisurely soak in Eleanor's larger than average bathtub followed by a huge breakfast. His morning had been rounded off by a quick glance at the _Daily Prophet_ in which he read nothing very newsworthy at all!

Eleanor and Jenny had fussed over all of Harry's packing making sure he had everything and that it was all in tip-top condition. In fact the two women seemed to be worse than Dobby! Harry really appreciated everything Eleanor and Jenny had done for him both practically and emotionally; they had helped him heal more than just his physical wounds. Many hours had been spent trying to think of some way Harry could demonstrate his appreciation for all they had done. In the end it had been Ginny who suggested the perfect, if somewhat unorthodox, solution.

While working at the bottom of Eleanor's garden Harry had cut back an ancient honeysuckle that was intertwined with a huge rambling rose that together had covered a doorway in the south wall of the garden. Eleanor knew the door was there but since her late husband had tended that part of the garden alone, and it had been his sanctuary, she had allowed it to become overgrown and reclaimed by nature.

When he had first been told of the walled garden, Harry had been intrigued by it but also reluctant to disturb it. Eleanor on the other hand simply said she had enough of a problem maintaining the main garden, let alone worrying about another one. It was not sentimentality but basic common sense that had let it get in its present state.

Harry had determined therefore that he would create a new garden that both Eleanor and Jenny could enjoy and that he, along with Ginny and Neville, would create and maintain. It felt good to Harry to be able to plan a long-term project. At times Harry felt that his life expectancy was next-to-zero, but anytime he came close to voicing these dark and depressing thoughts, Ginny would, both vocally and physically, pounce on him until he gave in.

"It's hard to be depressed with a red-haired vixen sitting on your stomach, pinning you to the floor and tickling you to death!"

At least this was the sentiment Harry had expressed to Tonks when she asked him simply what the source was for his noticeably good mood these days. To his dismay and confusion however, Tonks looked worried, saddened almost at his revelation.

"What?" Harry queried.

"Eh?" Tonks response was neutral, giving nothing away.

"You know Ginny and I are together, right?" queried Harry, perplexed.

"As friends, sure, same as Ron and Hermione are your friends?" Tonks was still being evasive.

"Friends? No, more than just friends, much more. It'll be good to be able to be really together when I get back to school."

"Harry, listen. Ginny's a good kid but…" began Tonks. Harry looked at her with astonishment clearly written on his face.

"Tonks, Ginny's hardly a kid anymore and neither am I." Said Harry, a frown creasing his forehead.

Tonks blushed. Truth be told it was more than obvious to Tonks that Harry wasn't a kid anymore. They were sitting on a couple of garden chairs on the patio at the back of Hill House. Harry had been working hard on the garden all day, his black sleeveless t-shirt clung to his sweat-soaked body, his arms and legs showed definite evidence of the hours Harry had put in on Jenny's gym equipment and on weeding and clearing the walled garden.

"No. I know you're not a kid anymore Harry but you're still young." Said Tonks sadly before adding, "There's plenty of fish in the sea. Sorry. I'm not making myself very clear here." Tonks stood up, knocking her chair over in the process. Harry righted the chair as Tonks started pacing up and down. If Harry didn't know better he'd have guessed Tonks had some bad news she didn't want to impart.

Harry had had enough. He was determined to take greater control of his life and he was not going to allow this to continue. Standing up Harry stepped in front of Tonks and stopped her in her tracks; he held her upper arms in a surprisingly strong grip. "Just spit it out Tonks. What is it you are trying to say?"

Harry looked in her eyes and saw they were over-bright almost as though they had tears ready to be shed at a moment's notice.

"You and Ginny …" said Tonks.

"What about me and Ginny?" said Harry.

"You shouldn't … I mean you two mustn't …" stammered Tonks. Now Harry was really perplexed.

"What? Tonks?" But at that moment Jenny had arrived along with Dr. McGregor.

"Well look at my patient now! Where's the pale, sickly-looking kid gone?"

The arrival of Jenny and her Harry gave Tonks the ideal opportunity to get away from Harry's grip. She pushed his hands from her arms and turned to leave.

"Hello you two. Nice to see you but I was just about to leave. Sorry I can't stay!" and with that Tonks positively ran into the house.

"Tonks! Wait!" called Harry but it was too late, she'd gone.

Jenny and her 'Doc' as she'd come to call him sat on the patio chairs enjoying the evening sunshine. As she poured out two glasses of homemade lemonade from the jug on the table, Jenny asked Harry. "You two been arguing? I can't ever remember Tonks scooting off like that. She looked upset as well. Harry?"

Harry was still standing just as Tonks had left him. At the sound of his name he turned to Jenny. "Sorry? What did you say?"

"I asked if you two had been arguing? Have you?"

"Er? No. I don't think so." Said Harry, sitting back down and picking up his glass again.

"I can't get over how different Tonks looks from when I first met her." Said Doc McGregor.

"Mmm." Said Harry, still miles away, staring at – but not seeing – the glass in his hand.

"That's it!" said Jenny, taking the glass off Harry and forcing his attention back on her.

"Earth to Harry! Come in Harry."

"What?" he replied at last.

"I've been trying to talk to you and I might as well have addressed that brick wall! What was wrong with Tonks? She looked upset over something."

"I don't know. Why ask me? Ask her." Exclaimed Harry. He knew he was being rude but he couldn't help it. He stood up, gathered up the garden tools he'd been using, threw them in the wheelbarrow then trundled it down to the potting shed at the bottom of the garden. It was second nature to take care of the secateurs, pruning shears etc., that he'd been using but today his mind was elsewhere as he went through the routine of cleaning and storing away the tools.

_What on earth did Tonks mean?_ Thought Harry. _What was wrong with him and Ginny being together?_ He knew he'd been a prat to her in the past but it was different now. She was different but then again so was he.

Harry sat on the step into the shed and toed off his Wellington boots and put them under the potting bench. He picked up his trainers to put them on but checked inside first. Sure enough inside the left shoe was a large black spider.

"You must have no sense of smell if you can stand to be in there." Said Harry to the spider as he firmly but careful shook it out onto the shed floor. The spider made Harry think of Ron.

Ron would have run a mild at the sight of the spider Harry knew, but how was Ron going to react to the news that he and Ginny were a couple? Would he, like Tonks, try and keep them apart or would he approve?

As he walked back down the garden he recalled Ron's words again to Ginny on the train home. 'Choose someone better next time.' Would he consider Harry better? Or was he including Harry as another brother keeping an eye out for their little sister?

And what was up with Tonks?

Over the last week he'd caught her watching him a few times. Why? What was looking for? Or, what had he done – or not done – that had upset her? For clearly she was upset over something.

_Women!_ Thought Harry. They were a different species as far as Harry was concerned. He needed a translator half the time to understand every single subtle meaning of their actions.

All that is, except for Ginny.

His understanding of Ginny seemed to be instinctual; almost as if she had become a part of himself for truly that was what she was. He could no more separate himself from her as he could cut off a leg.

Ginny.

His Ginny.

- o – O – o -

Harry was finishing off his breakfast sitting in the light airy and spacious kitchen of Hill House; he was overjoyed, as Doctor McGregor and Madam Pomfrey had finally approved hiss return to school. Lost once more in his thoughts of Ginny it took Harry a moment to realise someone had come silently in through the back door.

Seeing Tonks standing silently with a very grave expression on her face, Harry's good mood rapidly evaporated as he became alert, wary and guarded. He somehow expected Tonks to have a good at him almost as thought she knew what, or rather who, he was thinking about.

"Mornin' Harry." Stated Tonks bluntly.

"Tonks." Acknowledged Harry abruptly.

At that moment Eleanor and Jenny came down the stairs and into the kitchen but before either of them could say anything Tonks took control. "Eleanor, I need to have a word with you through in the sitting room." She said. "Now, if you please. You too Jenny."

Tonks brusque no-nonsense manner, quite unlike her usual persona, alarmed the two women but they complied without question and left the room.

Harry stood and made to follow but Tonks placed a hand on his chest. "No, Harry, you wait here."

"What's going on?" demanded Harry. "Why do you want me kept out of it? Tonks?" His voice had become louder, more insistent and strident.

"Not now, Harry." Affirmed Tonks glancing over her shoulder as she entered the sitting room and shut the door in Harry's face.

Harry put his ear to the door but heard nothing and realised a silencing charm had been used.

Harry was furious.

After all that happened this summer, after all he'd been through; they were still treating him like a child.

He was still angry when the door opened some ten minutes later and Tonks said, "You all packed and ready to go then Harry?" but her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"I reckon." Said Harry mechanically. "What were you talking about?"

"Just routine Order business." Said Eleanor as thought it was nothing for Harry to concern himself with.

"Right then, we're off. Want to get you settled while everyone's still in lessons. I know how much you detest being the centre of attention Harry." Tonks stated and Harry was forced to agree with her.

"Thanks once again for everything you've both done for me. I don't know what would have happened otherwise. I'll never forget it and I'll never be able to repay your kindness." Harry spoke as he walked to Eleanor and kissed her gently on the cheek.

Eleanor embraced him briefly and whispered in his ear "Now you just stay safe at Hogwarts and write to me you hear."

"I will, I promise." Said Harry as he gave her a smile.

Then it was Jenny's turn; she embraced Harry and handed him a small neatly wrapped package. "I think you might find that useful, I know I did." Said Jenny.

Not wanting to repeat his mistake of leaving a gift-wrapped and ignored (as he had done Sirius gift of the mirror last Christmas) Harry tore the wrapping off to reveal a book. It was an ordinary Muggle hardback book entitled 'Prevention and Management of Violence and Aggression' by Brian J. Delaney. "Thanks." Said Harry but his expression told Jenny he was confused by the gift.

"Harry, I had thought to give you one of the police issue self-defence books but I realised that they mostly dealt with confrontations where the other party had a fire-arm or such-like." Said Jenny. "This book is about defusing situations _before_ they escalate into violence. It also teaches you how to control your own reactions to potentially dangerous situations and provocation."

"Oh, right. Well that will be useful, especially if Malfoy is around." Replied Harry. "Thanks very much Jenny, it's great." Harry gave her a quick peck on the cheek and then stooped to pick up Hedwig' s cage.

"It's no good Harry, I have to ask you. Why are you still wearing glasses when you don't need them any longer?" said Jenny with a puzzled look on her face.

"Well for two reasons really." Said Harry. "The first one is that as Tonks said I hate a fuss. I reckon that turning up late at the start of term is bad enough but being late and _without_ glasses would attract more attention than I need." All three women nodded in understanding before Harry continued, "The second reason that it is an advantage that I don't want my enemies to be aware of. I think Mad-Eye would approve, don't you?"

The two professional law officers exchanged significant looks before Jenny replied, "Good thinking. Mad-Eye would be proud of you."

"Constant vigilance indeed." said Tonks as she levitated Harry's trunk out of the front door. She raised her wand.

Bang!

One violently purple, triple-decker Knight Bus appeared on the front drive of Hill House.

"Welcome to the …" began Stan Shunpike but on seeing Harry he said, "Oh, hello _Neville!_" with rather a stupid grin on his face.

"If you want to keep your job I'd stay silent if I were you." Threatened Tonks prodding Stan in the chest with her wand point.

"Keep your 'air on." Said Stan making no effort to help Harry and Tonks store Harry's trunk and Hedwig' s cage safely on the almost-empty bottom deck.

Taking a comfy-looking armchair, Tonks said in a quiet but authoritative voice "Hogwarts, as fast as you can and no stopping." While paying Stan their fares.

"Hold tight then." Said Stan and Harry just had time to raise a hand to wave goodbye to Eleanor before he fell back into a second armchair when Ernie put his foot down on the accelerator and shot the bus and its passengers to the road leading from Hogsmeade's Station to the village. As it stopped outside the school gates and Harry spotted the winged boars atop the gateposts he could hardly believe he was back here at last.


	31. Curious, very curious

**Chapter 31 : Curious, very curious**

"It is odd." Said Hermione.

"You're telling me." Said Ron.

"And what did the twins say when you told them?"

"Er…" muttered Ron, almost completely silently.

"You have told them, haven't you?" asked Hermione, even though she knew the answer by observing Ron's evasiveness.

"Ron. They have a right to know. You should have told them." Hermione stated bluntly.

"Me? Why me?" demanded Ron, angrily.

"Because you're their …" began Hermione but her voice trailed away.

"Harry." Said Ron, loudly and dramatically as Harry walked down the stairs from the sixth year boys' dormitory to the Gryffindor common room.

"Harry, it's so good to see you." Said Hermione as she embraced him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Harry looked at Ron and was surprised to see him clenching his fists, his knuckles white, his breathing laboured.

"Ron, mate, it's good to see you." Harry moved towards Ron and was surprised when Ron flung his arms around him as though he were a drowning man clinging on for dear life. While still in Ron's arms, Harry nervously patted Ron's back while over Ron's shoulder he could see Hermione holding back tears, one fist held up to her mouth.

Silently Harry mouthed the question 'What's going on?' to Hermione, his forehead creased in worry. His reply was an equally silent 'Later!' back to him.

The two friends separated and Ron started talking fifteen to the dozen while Hermione sat in atypical stony silence.

"McGonagall said you'd be back now and she sent us out supposedly on prefect business but really so we could be here when you arrived so we could fill you in and give you your new timetable etc., Of course Gryffindor's got two new prefects, Colin Creavey's one and so is Ruth Pelta."

Ron rabbited on and on, hardly pausing long enough to take a breath. Before anyone else had returned to Gryffindor Tower, Harry had been given the first week of term almost blow-by-blow by Ron.

Still Hermione did not speak.

At last the bell rang denoting the end of the day's classes and a distant rumble like thunder could be heard as classes were dismissed. Within a couple of minutes students began pouring through the portrait hole and into the common room.

Harry's eyes raked the stream of students looking for one particular redhead but he could not fail to notice that this year's first years seemed both smaller in size and number.

"Noticed have you?" said Hermione, breaking her silence at last. "It seems that a lot of parents were reluctant to allow their children to be far away from home now the ministry have been forced to acknowledge the return of Voldemort."

"What worried them most though?" asked Harry, "Being far away from home, or being near me?" He had no doubt that although he had officially been cleared of the charges fabricated against him there would always be an element of the 'there's no smoke without fire' attitude among the general wizarding populace.

"Harry, I'm not going to trot out well worn phrases like 'no-one who knows you believes that rubbish' because I know they do little to heal the pain you felt at being pilloried so publically. What I will say is that you are strong and resillent and you can overcome the petty and juvenile behaviour of others. They are beneath contempt." As she spoke, Hermione gave Harry a small smile.

As he looked into her eyes he saw how tired and drained she looked and marvelled that despite everything that had happened to him, and all that she had experienced trying to help Ron's recovery, she still had the strength and willpower to think of his needs before her own.

Harry was still reflecting on Hermione's resilience when he heard, "Harry!" and found his arms and lap full of Ginny.

It was a good thing that Harry had been sitting on the big couch in front of the fire as he reckoned that if he'd been standing up Ginny's enthusiastic welcome would have sent him flying. Ginny squirmed around until she was sitting on Harry's lap properly, his arms around her waist.

Harry nuzzled the side of Ginny's neck breathing in the scent of the apple and cinnamon shampoo she favoured. It was one of Harry's favourite scents in the world. "Mmm, you smell like an apple crumble." Said Harry, without really thinking.

Ginny pretended to bash him in mock indignation. "Oh, thanks. That's just what every girls yearns to hear from their fella!" but there was a smile on her face and in her voice.

"You actually smell good enough to eat." Continued Harry as he pretended to take a bite out of Ginny's neck. But as he pulled the neck of her school blouse aside he spied a fine cord around her neck. His curiosity piqued, Harry pulled at the cord, wating to see what it was.

Ginny reached up and held Harry's hand still. "Don't Harry." She whispered.

"What?" he asked, puzzled. "What is it?"

"I'll show you later. I promise." Said Ginny emphasising the word 'promise'. There was an unspoken agreement that the word 'promise' meant just that, a definite and not mis-used pact. A promise made was a promise kept. Consequently Hary let the subject drop knowing he would be told precisely what the cord meant.

"Harry. Mate. Good to see you!" The rest of the sixth year Gryffindor boys were climbing through the portrait hole. Dean, Shamus and Neville walked over to the couch where Harry sat, Ginny still in possession of his lap. Neville plonked himself down on the couch while Shamus balanced himself on the over-stuffed arm. Dean stood with his back to the fire.

"When did you get back?"

"Have you seen your new timetable?"

"What about …?"

The questions came thick and fast making Harry's head hurt; he could feel a headache forming behind his eyes.

Ginny sensed his pain almost as soon as Harry had. "Harry, I almost forgot. Madam Pomfrey wants to see you after classes end. Why don't we go now and then meet everyone in the Great Hall for dinner?" said Ginny.

"Good idea." Agreed Harry, immediately. "Catch you guys later OK?" said Harry trying not to screw his eyes up against the pain.

By the time he got to the hospital wing he couldn't conceal it anymore and he was actually leaning on Ginny for support.

"Good lord, Potter. This must be a record, even for you. You've only been back an hour!" chided Madam Pomfrey.

"It's only an ordinary headache, I think. One of your headache cures should do the trick." Said Harry as he sat on the edge of his usual bed. Ginny kept his hand held tightly in hers.

"Let me be the judge of that, young man." Came Poppy Pomfrey's response. She muttered an incantation and passed her wand up and down Harry.

"Mm. I concur with your diagnosis 'Doctor' Potter." Said the nurse with a smile as she handed Harry a goblet of the cure. "Two concussions in as many months, you're bound to have a few headaches for a while I'm afraid Harry."

Harry went to nod his understanding but quickly stopped as it aggravated the pain. "Just sit quietly for a few minutes while that takes effect." This came not from the school nurse but from Ginny. "I'll be right back." She added as she kissed his forehead.

Harry lay back on the cool bed and closed his eyes. He cleared his mind of thought and relaxed. He could hear distant noises from students calling to each other out on the grounds … birdsong … Hagrid's boarhound, Fang, barking … Filch yelling at someone, somewhere and … Madam Pomfrey's voice and crying …

"That's it. Nearly done. Concentrate now Ginny, you've nearly finished." But the Nurse's words were punctuated by harsh, heartfelt sobs.

_What on earth was going on?_ Thought Harry The sounds making his heart leap into his throat.

"Ginny?" Called Harry urgently swinging his legs off the bed, the motion making his head pound worse than ever.

_Damn potion!_ Thought Harry as he made his way to the side room off the main hospital ward. Moving sluggishly again and holding on to furniture Harry called again, "Ginny? Are you OK?" His query was urgent now, a definite tone of panic in his voice.

"Out Potter!" Came Madam Pomfrey's voice and her tone permitted no debate.

"What's wrong?" demanded Harry.

"Nothing that you can help with." Stated the nurse bluntly as she pushed him back towards his bed. At that moment Ginny appeared from behind the nurse and in the same no-nonsense voice issued instructions which she fully expected to be obeyed.

"Harry. Go and lie down this instant. That potion needs at least 30 minutes to work properly."

"But I heard crying? I thought you …" blustered Harry.

On seeing the anguished look in his eyes, Ginny's tone softened. "Oh, Harry. I've been helping Madame Pomfrey look after Cynthia. You remember who she is, don't you?"

Harry screwed his eyes up as he tried to remember, it aggravated his headache but then he recalled. "Oh. Remus brought her and her brother from Malfoy's place. She got hit …"

"…by a Reductor Curse. Yes, you recall correctly. Miss Weasley here has been a great help to me in looking after that young woman's horrific injuries. She'll make a fine Healer one day. And if she wants a letter of recommendation to St.Mungo's I'd be more than willing to write one."

At these words from Madam Pomfrey Harry looked at Ginny and saw her blushing to the tips of her ears. "It's nothing, really, I'm used to helping mum when any of the boys were sick or hurt. It's just what makes sense. Honestly." Said Ginny self-deprecatingly.

"Being able to empathise with a patient and detect what they need rather than what they _say_ they need is a gift my dear. Do not decry a very real talent. We have few enough emphatic healers in this world and your gift should be nurtered and developed." Madam Pomfrey was smiling as she added, "I'm sure your parents and the Headmaster will agree."

"Please, Madam Pomfrey, don't say anything to them." Ginny's voice was now pleading and Harry was confused once more but it was the nurse who expressed her confusion.

"I will not speak of it if you don't wish me to to, but Ginny, think about it. Think about the good you could do, the number of people you could help?" The nurse looked from Ginny to Harry and both teens knew exactly what Madam Pomfrey meant. Ginny's healing skills could be used to help Harry.

"I will think about it. I promise." Said Ginny, quietly.

"That is all that I ask." Said the nurse as she smiled at the two Gryffindors before turning and leaving the ward.

After a short but awkward silence, Harry asked, "how's she doing? Is she going to be OK?"

"She's doing find. Have to change the dressings on her legs – stumps I should say – twice a day unfortunately and it's not a very pleasant experience for her as you can imagine. She also has to take that horrible blood replenishing potion that dad had last year. The skin is beginning to grow nicely over the wound and then we can help her sort out what kind of legs she wants."

"What kind? You mean there are different sorts?" queried Harry.

"Oh, yes" said Ginny, "most of the legs are almost indistinguishable from the real thing. They don't have to be wooden like Moody's you know. I think he sticks to that sort to be a bit more dramatic, almost like a pirate. I did manage to make Cynthia smile a bit earlier on, when I told her she could be what height she wants now. 6', 6'3" or even 7' if she fancied."

Even Harry had to smile at that thought. "Then Hagrid would be able to have a dance with her if they have another ball." Joked Harry before he added, "But how's her brother doing? Is Remus helping him?"

"Yes. In some ways he's got the harder task. He's gone through his first change – the worst one you know – Remus stayed with him. Professor Dumbledore prepared an unused dungeon here for them both to use. He cast loads of wards and charms to protect them and us. The charms also contain the noise. It must have sounded awful. But, apart from a few scratches and bites, it was not too bad. They'll both take Wolfsbane potion next month. That should make things easier and quieter for both of them but it can't be used during the Prima Mutato." Looking up at Harry's face, Ginny added. "What's up Harry?"

"Just thinking. Remus's changes must be lonely now compared to when he was at school with my Dad and …"

"Sirius." Ginny added. "Yes, I've thought that. They were all so closeandsupported each other so much. It's sad but at least Remus still has you."

"But I can't change into a stag during the full moon!" added Harry forlornly.

"Have you ever wondered what it's like?" asked Ginny.

"What? Being a werewolf?"

"No, silly, being an animagus?"

"I've thought about it, sure, but well it's really hard and I wouldn't know where to begin." Said Harry.

"Well, to begin with you have to learn to look inwards, find your centre and focus on it." Ginny said, but then abruptly changed direction when she became aware that the school nurse was within earshot.

"If you're feeling up to it Harry, do you think you'll be OK to come and eat in the Great Hall or would you rather stay here for the time being?" asked Ginny.

"I'm feeling much better. I think I'll be OK to go down for dinner." Replied Harry.

"If you don't need me any more Madam Pomfrey, I think I'll go to dinner. I'll call in tomorrow before class, OK?"

"Thank you Ginny. See you tomorrow." Replied the school nurse before adding, "Don't forget, Harry, if you need anything …"

"… I know where you are. I won't forget, I promise. Goodnight." Came Harry's response.

As they walked hand-in-hand down the many stairs to the Great Hall, Harry asked Ginny what she thought of their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Ron and Hermione were rather reserved about the dour Scot called Fletcher Finlayson and he was eager for a second opinion.

"Oh, he seems competent enough but it's really hard to judge as we've only had one lesson with him so far." Said Ginny.

"Did he give the standard OWL year speech?" queried Harry.

"Well, yes I suppose you could say that. His emphasis though seemed to be more on safety and living post-Hogwarts. He must have been told about the DA though 'cos he asked how many of us were members. Then he asked those who said they had been, to demonstrate for the rest of the class." Answered Ginny.

For some reason that Harry didn't fully understand, this worried him. "Did you put your hand up?" he asked but breathed a sigh of relief when she said, "No. As far as I am concerned that information is private and I would have to trust and respect anyone I tell. Fletcher is an unknown as far as I am concerned."

Harry put his arm around Ginny's shoulder and whispered, "Good for you" and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

At that moment a snide remark, in a familiar drawl, met their ears.

Harry's face drained of colour as he turned, his arm still around Ginny, to face Malfoy.

"I just wanted to congratulate you two as I understand you're now joined at the hips. How totally appropriate, two losers together." The Slytherin sneered as he spoke.

Ginny looked swiftly at Harry where his hand was on the top of her arm he was gripping her painfully hard. It was all she could do not to react. Harry met her eyes, 'ignore him, he's not worth the effort.'

Harry heard Ginny's words but no one else had. 'OK, Gin but promise me I can squash the little bug when I meet him next time.' Came Harry's thoughts in reply.

'Leave it for the Quidditch pitch, the first match is against Slytherin in four weeks.' Responded Ginny.

'Great idea.' Replied Harry.

While this dialogue had been taking place, Malfoy and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, had stood as if they had been frozen in position. They were ignored by Harry and Ginny as they turned to continue their walk to the Great Hall.

But Malfoy didn't like being ignored. He reached out to grab Harry but before he could make contact there was a bang and Malfoy shot back into Crabbe and Goyle, knocking them over like a bowling ball scoring a strike.

This same thought had crossed Dean Thomas's mind as he descended the staircase on his way to dinner. Dean shouted "STRIKE! Game to Harry Potter."

Unfortunately Professor Snape was approaching at the same moment and considered the scene far from amusing. "POTTER." He bellowed.

Dean motioned to stay as a witness for Harry but a shake of the head told Dean he should go and not get involved. "Yes, Professor." Said Harry in a fair attempt at politeness.

"What did you do to Malfoy? Ten points from Gryffindor for inappropriate wand use in the corridors."

"Professor, I'm afraid I don't have my wand on me at the moment. It's still in my trunk in Gryffindor Tower." Harry stood arms away from his sides "You can check if you so wish." His face and voice were neutral but Ginny could feel his anger building up to dangerous levels.

"Professor, perhaps Mr. Malfoy tripped?" said Ginny sweetly.

"He did not trip, as you very well know. It was a deliberate and unprovoked attack …" But Snape stopped suddenly when the headmaster appeared looking his usual calm, unruffled self.

"My, my. I see I am not the only one who is late going down to dinner." Dumbledore peered at Snape over the top of his half-moon glasses. "Is there a problem here Professor?"

"Headmaster, Potter here attacked Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle," replied Snape, "but I have the situation in hand. Thank you."

The Headmaster's gaze moved from Snape to Harry. "Is this true Harry?"

Harry still had unresolved issues with Dumbledore but now was neither the time nor the place to address them. Harry took a calming breath and replied in as diplomatic a tone as he could muster. "I'm afraid both _Professor_ Snape," Harry's sneer at the title went almost unnoticed, "and Mister Malfoy are mistaken Headmaster. They believe I cast a hex but I don't even have my wand on me as I was just leaving the hospital wing with Miss Weasley here, and we were going to dinner in the Great Hall."

"He's lying." Shouted Malfoy. "He must be."

Dumbledore looked at Harry again and Harry saw a strange glint in his eye. "Harry, think very carefully, ae you sure you didn't use your wand accidentally?"

What was going on? It almost seemed like Dumbledore was siding with the Slytherins against him. Harry felt his temper rise even further but as it did Ginny's presence in his mind became stronger until he heard her words loud and clear.

'Don't know why but Dumbledore's got a reason for this Harry. Take the blame. I know, I know." She added quickly, "It's unfair but we won't find out standing here. Trust Dumbledore Harry, I'm sure it's the right thing to do."

Ginny looked at Harry who visibly slumped before raising his eyes to meet the Headmaster's once more.

"I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore, but I think you are right and that I must have accidentally hexed Mr. Malfoy. Madam Pomfrey gave me a headache cure but it hasn't worked fully yet and I am afraid I was a little confused. It seems I do have my wand after all. Sorry." Said Harry in an almost perfect display of contrition.

"A likely story. A deliberate and wilful attack is what I call it. Potter is always strutting around as thought he owns the place." Snape was barely controlling his temper but his choice of words just caused Harry to become more irate. It was Dumbledore who broke the tension.

"Mr. Potter you will serve detention with me tomorrow night 6 o'clock in my office." Dumbledore's strict tone allowed for no argument or debate.

"Yes, sir." Acknowledged Harry meekly but squeezing Ginny's hand so tightly she thought it would break.

"Now I suggest we all go in to dinner. Severus, Miss Weasley, gentlemen…" Dumbledore gestured for the group to proceed to the Great Hall.

As the seven made their way downstairs, Harry and Ginny could almost see Malfoy's smirk as they hung back allowing the others to move out of ear shot.

"It's so unfair." Stated Ginny but this time it was Harry who stopped her and pulled her into an alcove.

"Ginny. When Dumbledore was talking I felt something. I don't know how or why but he conjured a wand into my robe pocket. _My_ wand is still in my trunk but he put this one…" he pulled the wand out with a flourish "into my pocket." As Harry held the wand out for Ginny to see, it turned into a rubber chicken then, with a flick of the wrist, it was a wand again. A perfect copy of Harry's wand no less.

Ginny couldn't help but smile for an instant before she replied more seriously "Here's hoping you'll find out why tomorrow night."

"I hope so." Acknowledged Harry as his stomach gave a noisy rumble. "Come on. Let's go eat."

As they descended the marble staircase into the entrance hall, Harry and Ginny could hear the normal sounds of hundreds of students enjoying their evening meal but as Harry stepped over the threshold the noise suddenly stopped.

All eyes turned to Harry. His stomach dropped and at the same moment he felt Ginny squeeze his hand. The pair started the long walk along the Gryffindor table to where Ron and Hermione had saved them seats. Before they got there, however, Katie Bell stood up. She looked Harry straight in the eye and said in a clear carrying voice, "Welcome back Harry. It's good to see you. I'm Gryffindor Quidditch Captain this year, so you're back on the team as Seeker." She turned to look at the teacher's table "Harry's ban has been lifted, am I right Professor Dumbledore?"

"Quite right, Miss Bell. Welcome back Harry." Said the Dumbledore.

"Welcome back Harry." Echoed Professor McGonagall raising her glass. Then Harry could hear dozens of fellow students echoing her sentiments.

Harry looked at Katie and said quietly, so that only she and Ginny could hear, "Thanks Katie."

Katie nodded her head, smiled at Harry and Ginny then resumed her meal. As Katie sat down the room assumed the normal level of dining hubbub.

As Harry placed the first mouthful of steak and kidney pie into his mouth, he realised just how much his acceptance back into Hogwarts' society had meant to him. He knew that if Katie had not spoken as she had done and Malfoy had made some comment instead, he could just as easily have been ostracised and made to feel a parish, as had happened back in second year.

The rest of the meal passed pleasantly enough but with frequent interruptions from DA members asking if it was going to continue. Harry truthfully said he hadn't yet decided but would let members know by the next weekend.

Harry's mind was still undecided about the future of the DA but something happened immediately after dinner that gave him much to think about.

Harry had been talking to Ron about the upcoming Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match as he stood up to return to Gryffindor Tower, when he felt a small but insistent had placed on his right arm.

Harry turned to see Cho Chang looking at him with tears in her eyes. His stomach turned over but he was astonished when she stood on tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek in front of everyone. If Harry had been confused before it was nothing to how he felt now. To his relief Ginny appeared at his side and slipped her hand possessively into his and spoke first.

"Hello Cho. How are you?" she asked politely and calmly but the message was unmistakable, 'no one gets to Harry but by me.'

Cho's response floored Ginny however as well as Harry. Cho stepped to Ginny and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'm so happy, I can hardly speak." She muttered at last. At their confused looks the Ravenclaw explained.

"I went to stay with my grandfather for a few days during the holiday. One evening, after dinner, we went for a walk to the churchyard to put fresh flowers on my grandmother's grave. On the way home a Dementor attacked us. Harry, thanks to you I was able to conjure my Patronus and drive the horrid thing away. If it hadn't been for the DA we would probably have been kissed. Thank you." She finished and gave Harry another peck before heading off to her common room.

Harry was stunned.

"Sorry to hear of Anna's death. First rate dueller and a mind as sharp as a rapier but then so was her tongue. Hah!"

These words had come from Ron. Hermione smiled weakly at Harry and Ginny and pulled Ron determinedly towards the marble staircase.

* * *

Sorry to my regular readers for the inordinately long wait between chapters. Real life has been manic of late, working 12 hour days. Weekends have been times of recharging the batteries leaving little time for my story. Have managed to write during lunch-hours (good escape tactic!) and when in bed at night. Have written up to chapter 45 now.

Your reviews, as ever, are much appreciated. It seems I have, as intended, led quite a few readers up the proverbial garden path with regard to the last interplay between Tonks and Harry. I have no intention for this story to be a Tonks/Harry fic. You will need to think again what motives Tonks might have for discouraging the relationship between Harry and Ginny!


	32. Past tense, present tense

As always everything belongs to JKR.

Promised that there would be less of a wait for the next chapter...

**Chapter 32 : Past tense, present tense **

_--- zzz ---_

"_You know I don't think Ron even remembers what he says sometimes." _

_Ginny was speaking as she lay on the couch in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, her head was on Harry's lap as he sat, legs out towards the flames. The fingers of his left hand lazily played with a strand of Ginny's hair while his right hand lay on her stomach. Ginny's right index finger gently traced the white scars that could still be read, as 'I must not tell lies.'_

"_When did he start? I mean I don't remember anything odd after he came back from the hospital wing in June. Did something trigger it off or what?" asked Harry as he released the strand of hair and took a drink from the mug of hot chocolate that had appeared on a table beside the couch._

"_It seemed to start at about the same time as your abduction," began Ginny. "Ron had woken everyone up with his hollering at about 3 in the morning and we were trying to get back to sleep when the Aurors arrived with a warrant for your arrest," she continued._

"_Do you remember much of what he said?" asked Harry._

"_Unfortunately no. Hermione was staying with us as her parents had gone to Australia to visit her aunt and uncle. Most nights when Ron started, Hermione would go in. She'd cast a silencing charm so everyone else could sleep, but she hardly did. She'd be the best one to ask Harry."_

"_I'll speak to her in the morning."_

"_The only time I went in was the first time. It was obvious to me that Ron needed help and that Hermione was the best one to provide it. As soon as she sat beside Ron he calmed down." Said Ginny._

"_Was that the time you saw light and felt that warm flush?" asked Harry._

"_Yes. They felt it too. It's weird isn't it?"_

"_You can say that again." Echoed Harry._

"_Dumbledore said he'd tell us more about this Sixth Power, but so far he's not said a word. Did Hermione come up with anything?"_

"_Not as far as I know but then she'd had to wait until she got back here to use the library._

_Harry rubbed both hands across his eyes. "Questions, that's all we seem to have, questions and no bloody answers."_

"_Perhaps you'll get some answers on your detention later with Dumbledore." Said Ginny who then added, "Harry, I've been thinking. It might be a good idea for the six of us to get together and bring everyone up to speed on what's happened since June. What do you think?"_

_Harry sat and thought about the suggestion for a while. He hated to talk about himself but he needed first hand accounts from others and knew they felt the same. Eventually he replied "Seems like a good idea but I think we should have a word with Hermione first, see what she thinks."_

"_OK." _

_--- zzz ---_

"Oy! Luvver boy, get your backside out of bed. I want some breakfast this side of midday." Ron shouted this in Harry's ear just as he hit him over the head with his pillow.

"Geroff, Ron." Shouted Harry throwing the pillow back at his best mate, but he had a grin plastered on his face. It felt so good to be back here. For a while Harry had been too scared to even hope he'd ever be allowed to return. Harry's face must have reflected his thoughts as Ron, instead of carrying on with their joking, sat on the foot of Harry's bed.

"Thought you'd never be back here didn't you?" Ron said perceptively. Harry felt a huge lump in his throat rendering speech impossible so he just nodded instead. "She's great you know." Said Ron. Ginny had warned Harry that Ron changed topic at the drop of a hat.

"Who?" said Harry perplexed.

"Marnie," said Ron with a silly grin on his face, "she's great. Stupid I know but for a while there I actually got jealous of my own brother. Stupid! I mean Bill? 'Course they were only working together. Got there in the end though. Knew they would. Madame Bones said the whole wizarding world owes them. Might get an Order of Merlin, only 3rd class, but still… not many people get that while they're still at Hogwarts."

Then without another word, he was gone. Harry looked over at Dean, Neville and Shamus.

"Beats me, mate." Said Dean.

Shamus just shrugged his shoulders and went down to the common room.

"Neville, what's going on?" pleaded Harry in a clearly worried tone.

"Ron seems to be a bit well, scrambled up somehow," answered Neville, clearly thinking before he spoke. "He knows what he's trying to say but it usually … well you saw for yourself. He reminds me a bit of my mum. Like thinking through a fog."

"How's he managing in class?" asked Harry, definitely worried now.

"I only have Charms and Transfiguration with him and both Flitwick and McGonagall have gone easy on him so far. It's only been a week. He can do the work OK. In fact he seems to be mastering charms far easier than normal. It's mainly when he's talking about things that he loses track. It's like he's trying to hold two conversations at once, so he misses out on bits."

Harry was sitting on the edge of his bed, lost in thoughts of what Ron had been going through, when Neville suddenly spoke up and brought him back to the here and now. "I've been thinking, Harry, that it might be a good idea to ask Professor Dumbledore to try and find out more about the brain." At Harry's puzzled look, he added, "I mean, who was it? Why was it there? We don't know anything about that person and it might help Ron deal with it if he knew."

"Neville, that's a great idea. Tell you what, Ginny suggested that the six of us from the Ministry get together to go over things that have happened since June. I can't do tonight but how about tomorrow 7 o'clock in the Room of Requirement?" said Harry who breathed a sigh of relief when Neville readily agreed.

"I'll speak to Luna, OK?" Neville said with a distinct blush.

"Great, and I'll tell the others. Speaking of which they'll probably be wondering where I am." Harry darted off to the bathroom.

- o – O – o -

When Harry walked into the Great Hall some 15 minutes later it was to discover the five all sitting together, heads bent low and talking in quiet voices. All except Ron that is, who was still shovelling sausages and bacon into his mouth as though it were his last ever meal.

"Mornin' all." Said Harry as he sat down and picked up a glass of pumpkin juice.

Ginny passed Harry a plate loaded with all his favourite breakfast items, bacon, sausages, tomatoes, fried bread, mushrooms and two eggs.

Hermione spoke first. "Harry, you eat while we fill you in." After Harry had nodded his approval of this excellent suggestion Hermione continued.

"First, have you checked your new timetable? Just nod or shake your head." His mouth loaded with food, Harry shook his head.

"Right, well sad to say you're in Potions with Snape first thing tomorrow. I can just imagine what he's going to be like. But Ron and I will be there so we'll try and help any way we can."

"No more Potions for me though." Said Neville with a huge grin.

"Then we've got Defence against the Dark Arts with Finlayson so perhaps we can get on properly." Said Hermione before adding, "I don't know much about him yet though and it hasn't been for lack of trying to find anything." The annoyance was clearly evidence in her tone of voice.

"Well I can tell you," said Luna sipping on her cup of tea.

Still Luna sat and sipped. "Well what then?" said Ginny eventually.

"He wrote this year's Defence Against the Dark Arts text book, is an ex-Auror and was an accredited police officer in the muggle police, one of the few people to have bilateral accreditation. Oh, and he used to be a chaser for the Montrose Magpies." Recited Luna calmly.

"And how do you know this?" Demanded Hermione in a somewhat hostile tone but Luna seemed completely oblivious to the unspoken challenge.

"I asked Professor McGonagall." Came the simple and rather obvious answer. Hermione visibly deflated as she was unable to challenge the answer.

Instead she simply uttered "Oh!"

Ron had totally ignored Luna's earlier comments about their new professor but this last bit of news captured his attention.

"Montrose Magpies? Excellent. Perhaps we can get some tips from him to improve our plays."

Hermione just raised her eyebrows at this reaction.

"Harry, fancy going for a workout after breakfast? I really want to try out a few moves Charlie explained this summer."

"Ron." Started Hermione, but surprisingly it was Ginny who promoted the idea.

"Yes, Harry and I'd like to try some tricks I've thought up. Been reading some of Ron's old Quidditch magazines and I've got some ideas of my own I'd like to try."

"I give up." Said a very exasperated Hermione resignedly recognising that the trio of Ron, Harry and Ginny were now well and truly stuck on Quidditch and she wouldn't get much sense out of them until after their practice, albeit an informal one.

"I'm off to …" began Hermione, to which Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna, all chanted in perfect synchronisation.

"… the library!"

Even Hermione had to laugh at that.

The friends made their way across the entrance hall and up the marble staircase, laughing and joking as they went. Harry was in a particularly good mood. He was physically well, back at Hogwarts and with three of the people he cared most about in the world.

Life was good.

Therefore, in the back of his mind, Harry was worried.

It couldn't last … could it?

Did he dare hope that his life would run smoothly, even if only for a while.

Ginny seemed to sense Harry's feelings and reached to take his hand in hers and the familiar warm glow suffused his body. At the same moment Harry noticed Ron reach out to take Hermione's hand. Ginny gave a knowing glance over to Harry who smiled his understanding back with a silent 'about time too!'

The practice session was brought to an abrupt end after a couple of hours by a brief but heavy, shower of rain which was the Gryffindors cue to run for cover.

Back in their common room everyone was focused on the previous week's homework. As he had not been at Hogwarts when it was issued, Harry decided to start on some planning for the DA.

Cho's comment the night before had convinced Harry of the validity of the DA and he had vowed to continue it. He did hope however, that it could be done more openly now Umbridge was gone. Tonight's detention with the Headmaster would be the perfect opportunity to discuss it.

Harry sat on the floor beside his trunk and pulled out all his DADA books. When he reached the Gilderoy Lockhart books he threw them contemptuously to one side but after a minute or two's thought, put them back in the pile with the others. He'd have to be discriminating in his use of the material they contained but there most likely would be some gold among the dross.

Soon the floor around Harry's bed was covered with notes, draft lesson plans, books, pictures and diagrams.

"Blimey, Harry, I reckon Hermione's been rubbing off on you. You must almost have as much info here as in the library. Is this all DADA?"

The comment and query had come from Dean Thomas who'd come to get a book about West Ham United Football Club, out of his own trunk to lend to a muggle-studies student.

"Eh?" said Harry only hearing half of what Dean had said.

"I said is all this stuff for the DA?" repeated Dean, picking up a book at random.

"Yes." Said Harry; he was trying to concentrate on what he was doing and as much as he liked Dean he was in no mood to chat.

"I wonder if Ginny wants to go for a walk. Was she in the common room, Harry?" asked Dean.

"Eh?" came Harry's districted response once more. _Why couldn't Dean just shut up? Can't he see I'm busy!_ Thought Harry irritably.

"Don't bother. I'll go and see for myself." Muttered Dean as he stomped off, none too quietly. It was only a couple of moment later that Dean's words finally penetrated Harry's busy brain.

_Ginny? Dean was going for a walk with Ginny? Not on your life._ Thought Harry fiercely who suddenly went from being physically inactive but mentally alert to running on all cylinders. Harry jumped up, his legs objecting painfully with cramp in both calf muscles, and staggered as quickly as he could down the stairs from the boys' dormitories to the common room.

He burst in as though the devil himself was after him and landed painfully in a heap on the floor scanning the room frantically.

Ginny, on the other hand, was sitting legs curled up cat-like on a chair in front of the empty fireplace, a muggle magazine held up in front of her face trying, and failing, to hide her giggles.

Harry pulled himself to his feet and staggered over to sit on the end of the couch nearest Ginny.

"What's so funny?" challenged Harry clearly annoyed.

"If you could only have seen yourself. You came charging down the stairs and seemed to just keep going." Said Ginny now openly giggling.

"I'm glad you find me so amusing." Said Harry almost angrily. He crossed his arms and stared moodily into the empty grate. Very slowly and deliberately, Ginny closed her magazine and placed it on the wide over-stuffed arm of her chair. With continued deliberation she stood and moved to stand in front of Harry; when he continued to look down Ginny placed one finger below his chin and raised his head until he could ignore her no longer.

Harry stared into her face; Ginny smiled a gentle smile as she bent down and kissed him tenderly on the forehead. Taking Harry's right hand in her own Ginny pulled his arm around her as she snuggled up beside him on the couch, just as she had done in their dream, her head resting on his lap.

Harry gave a great sigh as he relaxed. He closed his eyes and in his mind he heard Ginny's voice. 'It's you I want to be with Harry, not Dean nor anyone else. You thought I'd rather go for a walk with Dean than be with you, didn't you?'

"No, of course not." Harry replied automatically but as Ginny looked up at him, an expression of disbelief clearly written on her face, Harry had to admit. "Well, yes, I suppose I did."

"Harry, Dean's been helping me with my muggle studies essay on muggle sports, that's all."

"Good." Said Harry but then he added, "It's nice of him to help you like that."

"Yes it is. Dean's OK." Said Ginny as she lazily traced the index finger of her hand over the white letters on Harry's hand just as she had done in their dream. "I must not tell lies." Said Ginny clearly and succinctly. "It should read "Do" not "Must".

"Eh?" asked a perplexed Harry who obviously had not realised just what Ginny had been doing.

"That old hag, Umbridge, should have gotten you to write, "I do not tell lies" because you have been proved right about Voldemort being alive. Oh, how I wish I could have seen her face when her beloved Cornelius had to eat humble pie. I bet her face would have been a picture!" continued Ginny, still holding tight to Harry's hand.

"Yeah. Well that's one picture I can do without seeing, thank you. If I never see that woman again, it will be too soon."

The Gryffindor common room had a very old, frequently rude and very bad-tempered grandfather clock. Like the Weasley's clock this one had events and locations instead of hours and minutes. There was a single hand for the first years and one for the second years; other years had two or three hands. Unlike the Weasley's clock this one had two faces. The second, larger face, still had locations and events but many more hands. All the Gryffindors were introduced to this clock on their first evening, straight after the sorting feast.

The clock, however, also had two distinct personalities; the first was kindly and informative and could help the students telling them, well in advance, when something was due. It's help and advice had been invaluable over the years.

The second personality was a crazy mixed-up mess with elements of Peeves, Sir Cadogan and Argus Filch. If you got on the wrong side of this personality you were for it. It would tell you that it was the wrong time, the wrong day or to go to the wrong place. This personality had tricked Harry on more than one occasion in his first year and he'd earned detentions as a result. It was a lesson quickly learned.

The two personalities were called Gog and Magog but to the students they simply referred to the clock as 'Gramps'.

It was Gramps now who chimed to warn Harry and Ginny that it was dinnertime but in the truth the rumbling noises emanating from Harry's stomach had announced a need to feed before Gramps got a chance.

"Come on you two, there's shepherds pie on the menu tonight and bread and butter pudding for afters." The voice had a soft and melodious tone and Harry and Ginny acknowledge kindly Gog's words with a quick word of thanks as they headed out of the portrait hole to dinner.

As Ginny and Harry stepped off the bottom treat of the marble staircase in the entrance hall, Malfoy and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, appeared from the dungeon. It was the second time Harry had come face to face with Malfoy since his return to Hogwarts and since his imprisonment by Malfoy senior.

Malfoy was strutting around, hands thrush deep in his pockets, tie untied and draped casually, but elegantly, around his neck. As he looked, really looked, at the blonde-haired Slytherin, Harry had almost an epiphany.

Draco Malfoy was, in many ways, like the teenage Sirius that Harry had seen in Snape's Penseive.

Both were from aristocratic and moneyed families.

Both had been raised to firmly believe in the supremacy of pure blood families in the wizarding hierarchy.

Both were stylishly elegant in a nonchalant, no-effort, way that Harry knew he could never achieve, no matter how hard he tried.

Both were extremely attractive to the opposite sex.

Both had their share of sycophantic followers – Malfoy had Crabbe and Goyle while Sirius had Wormtail, aka Peter Pettigrew.

Both were arrogant and sure of themselves.

Where the two were opposites – and the contrast could not have been more marked – was their devotion to the Dark Arts.

Malfoy was totally devoted _TO_ the Dark Arts while Sirius was totally and unequivocally against the Dark Arts and all who practiced them.

"Ah, Potter. It was so nice of you to be a guest this summer but it was rather rude of you, you know, to leave without a word to your gracious host. Still I suppose one must tolerate gross and base manners from one who was dragged up by muggles. Polite society simply demands that a guest repays their host for their hospitality and, believe me Potter, you will pay."

As he recited this obviously well rehearsed speech Malfoy's face wore a smile but the eyes were as cold and cruel as ever. It may have been couched in elegant speech but Harry was all too well aware that the threat contained therein was very real.

At the end of last year Harry had been instrumental in the capture of Lucius Malfoy, Draco's arrogant father, and his incarceration in the wizard prison, Azkaban. Neither Dumbledore nor any other member of the Order of the Phoenix had been able to determine just how Malfoy senior had been able to secure his release. Harry believed large quantities of gold had probably changed hands to effect the liberal use of memory charms on the jailers, no evidence to the contrary had been produced and the theory fitted in with the Death Eaters modus operandi, their method of working.

Harry felt Ginny squeeze his hand and once more heard her words in his head. 'Harry it's a bit odd isn't it? Look at Malfoy's sleeves. Everyone else has their shirt sleeves rolled up above their elbows but Malfoys are only just unbuttoned and turned back above his wrists.'

Harry understood Ginny's inference at once. Had Malfoy already joined the ranks of Voldemort's minions? Harry decided to try and find out.

Stepping forward Harry assumed a pose almost exactly mimicking Malfoys.

"Malfoy. So you have returned to Hogwarts. It's funny but I would have thought that with your family connections in, er... certain quarters and now you have your OWLs, that you would left these hallowed halls to join the, er… 'family' business. But then again perhaps your connections are somewhat less beneficial you have led everyone to believe. Or was your little speech about _who you know_ being more important than _what you know_ just your way to cover up your abysmal marks?"

'Nice one Harry,' came Ginny's voice in his head only to be echoed by both Hermione and Ron moments later as they stepped into the hall.

It was clear to all present that Harry's words had found their mark. Malfoy's usually pallid, unruffled expression turned a stormy, angry red for the briefest of moments only before he regained control uttering, "But it was not I that required extra tuition in a remedial class in order to gain my OWL in potions, Potter. I believe that distinction belongs to you." Malfoy's smirk was unmistakable.

Hermione's voice beat Harry's retort by at least a couple of heartbeats. She laughed a controlled laugh before uttering sweetly and patronisingly. "Draco, Draco, you poor naïve thing. You really do believe every cock-and-bull story you are fed don't you. One day, Draco dear, you will start to grow up and actually think for yourself instead of blindly repeating platitudes and opinions held by the real grown ups."

Harry could feel Ginny shaking with silent mirth at the superb put-down when Ron decided to add his voice to the debate. "Always said the Malfoy family motto should be 'By Brute Strength and Ignorance'. Your boys here are your brute strength so that means you must be the ignorance, Malfoy." At that Ron turned to Hermione and held out his arm "If you are ready to dine, shall we proceed?"

Hermione took his arm and, as though they were about to enter a lavish ballroom instead of the Great Hall, swept imperiously passed a stunned Malfoy.

Harry copied Ron's gesture and held out his arm, Ginny took it and with a regal bearing they too, turned to enter the Great Hall for dinner. Before they got a chance to cross the threshold however, Malfoy had placed a hand on Harry's shoulder to halt him in his tracks but Harry was expecting this response, after all it was vintage Malfoy behaviour.

Releasing Ginny's hand Harry spun around, his left hand gripped Malfoy's left wrist and, before he was able to react, Harry's right hand pushed Malfoy's left sleeve up beyond his elbow exposing the naked understand of his forearm.

Not a blemish marred the skin. Harry was unable to mask his disappointment.

"Looking for something, Potter? Or are you determined to earn yourself yet another detention?" The drawl this time came not from Malfoy but from Snape. Now it was Harry's turn to feel the flush of anger. Rather than let his tongue respond as he would wish, Harry turned his gaze away from the Slytherins and into the Great Hall.

Dumbledore was striding between the tables right at them.

"Good evening Professor, Miss Weasley, gentlemen. I would recommend that you make all haste to enjoy an excellent shepherd's pie before it is all gone. The bread and butter pudding is also superb and I would suggest you all partake." His words contained no overt rebuke but Dumbledore's expression and gesture were unmistakable. _Not here – not now!_

Suitably chastened the four Slytherins were followed into the Great Hall by two Gryffindors and one Headmaster.


	33. Carpe Diem

Sorry for the delay in updating. Have still been working 12-hour days. JKR owns Harry and Company; I just love playing in her world.

**Chapter 33: Carpel Diem**

"Dumbledore said he got the idea from Hermione."

"All her hours spent in the library really have paid off, haven't they?"

Harry stood up abruptly, picked up a stone and threw it with all his might as far out into the Hogwarts Lake as possible. His shoulder gave a sharp stab of protest. Madam Pomfrey had cast healing charms on the once dislocated joint back in Hill House but every now and again it caused Harry grief. This was one such occasion.

Harry and Ginny had been sitting side by side in Harry's favourite concealed spot on the shoreline of Hogwarts Lake.

Ginny made no motion to stand, instead she sat and idly plucked petals off a dandelion flower and let Harry work out his frustration on the rocks that littered the waters edge.

"What did Ron and Hermione say? And I suppose Neville and Luna are included!"

Splash! Another rock sailed through the air.

"What about your Mum and Dad. The twins, Bill, Charlie, even …" SPLASH "…bloody Percy!"

Harry bent to pick up yet another rock but now Ginny had had enough. With a softly spoken incantation and a slight flick of her wand Ginny banished the apple-sized rock Harry had reached for, into the waters. Harry turned to her in his temper but Ginny could see the dampness on his cheeks. She stood and walked towards him opening her arms wide and taking him into her embrace. Harry clung to her as though he were drowning in that same lake.

"If he were to get you … I don't …! I couldn't bear it if …!" Harry was so distraught he couldn't even speak cohesively.

In his 'Detention' with the Headmaster that first Sunday night back at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had explained that the Order were now given to believe that Voldemort intended to get Harry by using precisely the same ruse as he had back in June. His arrogance was such that he believed that the only reason for the June failure was the inclusion of certain flawed elements which had been beyond his immediate control, specifically certain Death Eaters. Harry had been woken on many nights at Hill House by his awareness of Voldemort's retribution on those who had earned his displeasure. The wards surrounding the ancient house had lessened the effect of the link between Voldemort and Harry but it had not cancelled it out completely.

So, Voldemort planned a new operation designed to bring Harry to him. Voldemort's phrase 'Potter will be begging to come to me' had haunted Harry for weeks but he had not expressed his concern to anyone save Ginny. The Headmaster, however, seemed to have another inside source of information and it was from that source that tonight's bombshell had been dropped.

Apparently Voldemort had something special planned for the Equinox that was due to take place on the 22nd of this month. No details were yet available but it was understood that a kidnap of someone close to Harry was intended to result in Harry going willingly to Voldemort's side and his obedient participation in the planned activity, whatever it may be.

This, of course, could not be allowed to succeed.

Everyone close to Harry had been given an item specially crafted by Dumbledore. There were rings, bracelets, necklaces and watches. Each piece was designed with three primary functions.

Firstly, special tracking charms enabled the wearer's location to be monitored.

Secondly, in the event of a successful abduction, the item became a portkey back to the hospital wing of Hogwarts, should the wearer be rendered unconscious.

Lastly, each piece incorporated an automatic shield charm that would deflect minor curses and reduce the effect of some of the more major hexes. It was ineffective however against the Unforgiveables.

Whilst Harry appreciated the necessity of these precautions, he could not help but feel they would somehow prove in vain. Voldemort, Harry knew all too well, was persistent and determined.

This had been the main subject for discussion between Harry and Ginny as they left the Quidditch pitch after a particularly gruelling practice. On hearing Ron come up behind them, Harry and Ginny changed the topic of discussion at a rate of knots.

"Well I've run out of ideas. I've given Hermione all sorts of things in the past and I've been trying to wheedle out of her what she'd like for her birthday but she won't let on."

This statement had come from Ginny who now turned to her boyfriend and to her brother. "What about you two? Got any ideas?"

Much to Ginny and Harry's surprise Ron said that he'd ordered Hermione's gift weeks ago and that he only hoped they'd arrive in time. Naturally both Harry and Ginny wanted to know more but Ron flatly refused and they had to be content.

Ron then ran off ahead of them using the excuse that he wanted to shower before going to bed. In the aftermath of Ron's sudden departure, Harry and Ginny realised they'd stopped dead on the staircase. It's sudden movement brought them to a passageway much closer to the portrait hole, and back to the subject of Hermione's gift.

"I saw a couple of things tucked away in 'Witch Weekly's Arts and Crafts section that I thought might be right up Hermione's alley." Said Ginny with a distinct air of superiority. It was obvious to Harry that she was dying for him to beg her to share her idea with him. Harry however knew this game, he'd played it with Ginny many times before and he loved 'forcing' her to give in. Truth be told he also loved to play the game in reverse as Ginny usually ended up sitting on top of him and tickling him mercilessly.

"Oh, yes Miss Weasley and what would those items be?" asked Harry in the assumed formal tones that constituted the appropriate response to Ginny's opening gambit.

"Wouldn't you like to know Mr. Potter."? Ginny was now walking backwards, wagging her finger and, Harry noted with a distinct flush to his face, her hips in a very provocative manner.

"Accursed wench! I will have you at my mercy and then you will reveal your secrets!" said Harry in dastardly fashion before making a dive to catch Ginny.

His quarry was to quick for him however and Harry's dive left him staggering with a stupid grin on his face in the general direction of Gryffindor Tower.

By the time Harry had given the Fat Lady the current password of 'blast-ended skrewt', Ginny was nowhere to be seen. In an effort to get his breath back, Harry flopped down on the couch, his ribs aching only slightly from all the exertion. The soppy grin however was still on his face.

Hermione had been sitting in the big over-stuffed armchair this time and she looked up from her reading just long enough to give Harry an enormous smile before looking back at her text.

"What was that look for?" queried Harry, still smiling.

"Nothing!" said Hermione but on seeing Harry's disbelieving look, she added quietly. "Well it's just that despite everything you looked really …"

"Really what?" persisted Harry.

"Happy, Harry. It's… I dunno, nice just to see you laugh, especially after all that's happened."

Harry's face became more serious for a moment but not in the troubled way Hermione had seen so often in the past. Harry said, "When I was staying in Hill House, Eleanor had this piece of very old embroidery in a frame above the bed I slept in. I asked her what it meant, I knew it was old, Latin or Greek or something, but I couldn't read it. It said 'Carpe Diem' and Eleanor said it meant …"

"Seize the day," finished off Hermione.

"Yeah. Should have known you'd know it. Eleanor tried to explain it as live your life as though each day were your last. Live life to it's fullest and grab each opportunity while you can." Said Harry.

"Life is not a dress rehearsal," came Ginny's response from the staircase up to the girl's dormitories.

Harry turned to look at her. She had indeed had a quick shower. Ginny's hair was hanging loose (it had been tied back during practice) and her face was all pink and shiny. She wore a full-length cotton dressing gown that was untied and fell open to show the matching cotton nightdress beneath.

Harry thought she looked stunning.

He stood up, took the few steps to her side, placed his hands round her waist and pulled her towards him. Harry gave Ginny a very passionate kiss in front of everyone sitting in the common room. He was entranced and only had eyes for Ginny.

The trance was broken by jeers and catcalls from Dean, Shamus, Colin and Neville.

Now it was Harry's turn to blush, especially when Ginny teased him about still being 'fresh' from Quidditch practice, holding her nose in demonstration.

"Ok. Ok. I take the hint." Said Harry as he turned to go up to the showers in the boys' dormitories.

"Oh, Harry, I wouldn't go up there if I were you, Moaning Myrtle's been waiting for a visit just from you." This came from Shamus and triggered yet more jeers and catcalls.

"Harry go down and use the Prefect's bathroom. You'll get peace in there." This welcome suggestion came from Colin Creevey, one of the new batch of prefects. "Password's 'mountain stream'."

"Thanks Colin," said Harry as he went to grab his nightclothes before leaving the common room. It was only just gone 8.30pm and the sixth year were allowed out until 9 but there was quite a walk to and from the prefects' bathroom so as an extra precaution Harry had grabbed both his cloak and the Marauders Map.

On the way these two items lay concealed in Harry's dressing gown else he might have been puzzled by the conspicuous absence of Ron's name in the Prefect's bathroom or on the obvious route back to Gryffindor Tower. As it was Harry was blissfully ignorant of his friend's absence. Ignorant that was until he gave the password and entered the luxuriously appointed bathroom.

"Ron? It's only me. Colin gave me the password," shouted Harry as he pushed the door open. "Ron?"

But Harry's enquiry was met with stony silence. Harry put his things down on one of the benches before checking each shower cubicle. There was no sign of Ron anywhere but the odd thing was the end cubicle had definitely been used and recently. Water droplets were still evident on the tiled walls and even footprints could be made out, although these were now rapidly drying in the magically warmed room.

As Harry looked closer round the room he spotted Ron's clothes lying in a somewhat untidy heap in front of the pile of fluffy white bath towels that lay on the floor. As Harry checked out the pile of clothes he noted the watch given to Ron by Dumbledore. The portkey/protector/locator! It was lying on top of Ron's clothes. Now Harry was getting really worried.

Not wishing to repeat his error of last year Harry opened the Marauders Map and activated it.

After extremely careful scrutiny, Harry was forced to conclude that Ron was nowhere to be seen. Slowly and carefully Harry checked out the bathroom now looking for evidence of an abduction, his heart beating painfully fast in his chest.

Nothing.

Remembering back to 4th year, Harry turned to ask the mermaid in the painting if she had seen anything – but she too was missing.

The thoughts in Harry's head were running so fast he put his hands to his temples in a futile attempt at slowing them down. Then he heard a voice. A girl's voice.

"Harry, I'm so glad it's you."

Harry spun around in shock. He had not heard anyone entering behind him but then he realised he knew that voice.

"Myrtle, is that you?" asked Harry hopefully. The perpetually glum ghost of a teenage girl floated up from the drain the centre of the huge, empty bathing pool. "Myrtle am I glad to see you," declared Harry honestly.

At these words Myrtle actually smiled a shy, mischievous smile and fluttered her eyelashes at Harry. "Are you really?" she asked but, at the speed of light, her countenance darkened, "or do you just want answers?"

Harry realised that Myrtle might hold invaluable information as to what happened to Ron and tried to think of ways to get information out of her without causing her to zoom back down the drain.

Turning, so he could look at her directly, Harry said in a hurt voice, "Myrtle, of course I'm pleased to see you. You know I was really disappointed last year when I wasn't made a prefect because it would have given me the perfect excuse to come and see you regularly. But it was my friend Ron who got the badge and not me and now he seems to have disappeared and I have no idea what happened to him. I don't suppose you happened to see anything, did you?" asked Harry hopefully.

"Is Ron the tall good looking muscley redhead, the one with the funny scars across his chest and arms?" asked Myrtle.

Harry's heart raced even more but he knew he had to play it cool. "Yes that's him. His girlfriend was worried about him and I offered to come and look for him so I had a good excuse to see you at the same time."

Myrtle floated right over to where Harry was standing, he could feel the air get markedly colder and he got Goosebumps on his arms. "Really?" said Myrtle in a more melodious tone that Harry had ever heard before.

"Really," said Harry looking at her right in the eyes.

Myrtle smiled once more. "I wish I had good friends when I came to this horrid place. When I died nobody missed me for hours and hours. It was that complete cow, Olive Hornsby, who eventually came looking for me."

"I remember you telling me that. It must have been awful for you." Harry added with what he hoped was a modicum of sympathy.

"Oh, it was. Them and their stuck up pureblood ways. 'We don't need _your_ type. We don't want mudbloods soiling our house.' Well, I showed them!" Myrtle was chattering on almost forgetting Harry was there. Harry, for his part, was patiently waiting and listening all the while dying to just shout at her 'what happened to Ron?' but then her words sunk in.

"Myrtle, are you telling me that you were in Slytherin?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Of course. All my family have been for years and years. Hundreds of years, I suppose. Why?" Myrtle looked slightly fearful again.

"Well, it's just that you said 'them and their pureblood ways' and then you said that your housemates thought you were a mudblood. That must have been horrid for you too. Why didn't you just tell them you were a pureblood?" said Harry who was totally puzzled by Myrtles words.

"Professor Dippet knew but he didn't want anyone else to know." Myrtle was morosely picking at a loose thread on the edge of her robes as she spoke, eyes focussed on the task to hand but her voice was very grumpy.

"How awful for you," said Harry with real sympathy this time. "Last year I was having some special lessons and Professor Snape told everyone I was having remedial lessons. It's horrible when you know the truth but you're not allowed to say." Harry went on quickly, "I only hope someone knows what's really happened to Ron and are able to tell what they know."

"Oh, but I do know what happened to him." Myrtle said excitedly.

For a split second Harry forgot Myrtle was a ghost and went to hold her hand. His fingers only met empty ice-cold air but the gesture was enough for Myrtle. Her eyes were dancing with delight.

"You were going to hold my hand. You were, weren't you?" asked Myrtle.

"I forgot I couldn't," said Harry sadly.

Myrtle whirled through the air with great whoops of delight.

"Harry, thank you. You have no idea how happy you have made me. I've been trapped here and had to wait until a friend, a real friend, would set me free. When you forgot I was a ghost and went to hold my hand you freed me. I can now pass on if I so wish. Thank you Harry, thank you so much."

Myrtle swooped down and gave Harry a chilly kiss on the cheek, then whispered in his ear. "Ron stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it round his waist and just vanished."

"Good grief!" exclaimed Harry. "Do you think the towel had been made into a portkey?"

"Must have been. Can't think of any other explanation," said Myrtle but Harry noticed her outline was growing steadily dimmer.

"Myrtle, what's happening to you?" Said Harry.

"I'll be going now, Harry," and with those words Myrtle turned and looked up into the corner of the bathroom where Harry could see a bright ball of light. "Keep well, keep safe, Harry." Myrtle turned to face Harry once more as she floated up towards the light growing ever more indistinct. For a moment the light grew brighter and then, it was gone.

Harry was left standing alone in the middle of the empty room. He walked over to the pile of Ron's belongings once more; the wristwatch was lying on the top, if must have been the last thing Ron removed, realised Harry.

As he stood looking down at the pile of clothes, idly fingering the watchstrap, Harry thought back over the events of the past few days. In particular Harry thought of his meeting with Dumbledore at which he'd been told of Voldemort's plans to get Harry to go to him and that his friends were to be used, once again, as bait.

Well so far, as Harry viewed the state of affairs, the thrice-damned plan seemed to be working!

What should he do though?

Last time he went after Sirius and caused his death and serious injuries to his friends.

This time?

Logic dictated he speak to the Headmaster or his Head of House. He was determined not to go off half-cocked again.

But what about Ron?

Could Harry afford to wait?

As he stood in the still steamy bathroom he glanced over at the large full-length mirror on the wall. It was steamed up, naturally, but Harry could make out words written on the glass.

As Harry peered at the words he realised two things: firstly he had not seen this mirror on his previous trips into the bathroom; secondly he would be able to raise the alarm, if he could wake up – or even find – the mermaid in the painting that hung over the bath tub.

"Hello? Are you there? Can anyone here me?" Harry, feeling rather stupid, shouted at an empty landscape. "Hello? It's an emergency. I need to get a message to Professor Dumbledore."

Nothing. Just as Harry turned away from the frame, an elderly witch with grey ringlets appeared on the beach. "Did you say you need to get a message to the Headmaster, young man?" came the crisp, no-nonsense tones of Dilys Derwent, a previous Headteacher of Hogwarts.

"Yes," said Harry. "Aren't you the portrait that helped Mr. Weasley last Christmas?"

"Yes. Yes, I am she. What is your current emergency?" said the portrait. Obviously not one for small talk, the witch now stood as close to Harry as the frame would permit and he looked in her bright, intelligent and curious eyes as he replied.

"My name is Harry Potter and it is vital that Professor Dumbledore be told that Ron Weasley, Mr. Weasley's son, has been taken from the school by a portkey. I think it was one of the towels in this bathroom. Ron's clothes and watch are here but Ron's not. There's an odd mirror here with a message and incantation on it. I know it's a trap but I don't have any choice. If I don't go alone Voldemort will kill Ron at midnight. I'm going to take Ron's watch with me and hopefully I'll be able to use it to bring us both home OK."

"Harry, you mustn't! It's far too dangerous. Voldemort wants you dead and he doesn't care who he kills to get you." Dilys was now fraught with anxiety. "Listen to me Harry. Dumbledore will be with you shortly. Speak to him first, I implore you. Speak to him first."

"Alright. I promise," said Harry not really with any meaning, just in the hope of shutting her up but at that moment the door opened and in walked Dumbledore himself.

"Ah. Headmaster, I am so glad you are here. Mr. Potter has just made a rather disturbing discovery. Mr. Potter if you will please elucidate," said Dilys in a no-nonsense tone.

"I came in to use the bathroom sir and Ron's clothes are here and so is his watch but there is no sign of Ron. Myrtle was here and she said Ron stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel, wrapped it round his waist and just vanished! Professor, it sounds like it was made into a portkey. Do you think Ron's all right."? Harry automatically looked to the Headmaster for answers.

"It certainly sounds like it Harry. Myrtle, I would like to speak to you please," said Dumbledore in a commanding voice; when Myrtle failed to appear a frown appeared on his face.

"Er. I'm afraid she can't come sir," said Harry, apologetically.

"Can't? What do you mean can't?" queried Dumbledore sounding more like McGonagall than himself.

"Er. I'm afraid Myrtle's gone."

"Do you mean she's passed over?" asked Dumbledore.

"Er. Yes, sir. I forgot Myrtle was a ghost and I went to touch her hand. After that she started fading and then she …" Harry just shrugged. Not really knowing how to describe what happened next.

"The ghosts of Hogwarts will forever be in your debt for this Harry. They will be celebrating for sure. At this time of darkness and worry, you have brought a little joy to one section of our community." There was a briefly lived twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes, quickly doused by a return to the matter of Ron's disappearance.

"Professor, how did you know what had happened to Ron?" asked Harry.

"I had added an additional warning to the locator charm on each item. If it became separated for it's wearer for more than 10 minutes an alarm was raised. It has now been about 20 minutes since Mr. Weasley removed his watch to have his shower.

Unfortunately knowing when he vanished does not help us know where he has gone. Harry, do you happen to have that excellent map of yours to hand?"

"Yes, Professor, I have it here but I can't see Ron on it anywhere." Stated Harry forlornly as he handed the already-activated Marauders' Map to his Headmaster.

In sheer frustration Harry started to run his fingers through his hair and began pacing around the bathroom; it was only then that he spied something written on the large mirror, visible due to the steaminess in the room.

'Potter, if you want Weasel-King back, come alone and tell no one. Bottom towel in the stack' 

Harry stood staring at the words then turned and moved towards the pile of snow-white bath towels. As he was about to grasp the towel a surprisingly strong hand gripped his wrist. He looked up into the unsmiling face of Dumbledore and as he did a sharp pain seared across his scar. Instinctively, automatically, Harry put one hand to his forehead his other still held by Dumbledore.

"Close your eyes, Harry, and tell me what you see," came the Headmasters voice spoken in barely more than a whisper. Harry obeyed and as he closed his eyes he saw Ron, standing wearing only the white bath towel; he looked well, unharmed at least, but he looked furious too! Ron looked up and Harry's eyes followed Ron's. All he could see was a small circle of blue sky with white clouds passing overhead.

He was in the bottom of a well!

Harry opened his eyes in shock. "I saw Ron. He's OK but furious. He's only got the towel wrapped round his waist but it looks like he's at the bottom of a well. But why?"

"Curious," said Dumbledore in a soft low voice releasing Harry's wrist at last. "Come, Harry. I wish to consult by predecessors." The two fell in step as they made their way back to the Headmaster's office.

"Jelly slugs." Dumbledore had been looking Harry right in the eye as he enunciated the current password. Clearly he wanted Harry to hear, and to remember, it. The gargoyles moved aside and the two made their way up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door. Many voices could be heard from the other side of the door that opened silently whereupon an instant hush befell the room.

The Headmaster sat in his chair behind the surprisingly clear desk. Harry sat in one of the chairs in front of it but before either had the chance to open their mouths to discuss Harry's vision or the message in the mirror, they heard the gargoyles move aside once more.

Minerva McGonagall, Ginny, Hermione and Neville all entered the room. Harry and Dumbledore looked at them in surprise. Professor McGonagall was the first to speak.

"Headmaster, Harry, I'm afraid I have some bad news. It seems, from what I've been told that an attempt will be made to abduct Mr. Weasley …"

Ginny cut McGonagall short. "Professor, it's true; but it's already happened. Ron's been taken, I don't know who by but I know he's gone."

As she spoke Ginny automatically went to Harry's side; he clasped her hands in his and the look of panic left her face.

"He's really all right?" she queried.

"He's unharmed, certainly but I'm not sure about all right". The question had been posed to Harry but it had been Neville and the Headmaster who had replied in almost perfect synchronisation.

"I suggest everyone sit down." The Headmaster waved his wand and a number of comfortable chairs appeared in front of the large fireplace.

"As far as I can determine, Mr. Weasley has been abducted from the prefect's bathroom by Draco Malfoy," began the Headmaster once everyone was seated. "He appears to be at the bottom of a dry well shaft." Harry nodded his agreement and the Headmaster continued. "He is uninjured but very angry. The wards surrounding Hogwarts have not been disrupted and I must conclude, therefore, that the well is somewhere within the boundaries."

It was not Harry's turn to speak, "but I checked the map and he was nowhere to be seen."

"As detailed as it is, Harry, the map is not exhaustive. The Marauders covered a lot of the grounds but there are some areas that have, shall we say, 'special' levels of protestation that would keep even the most tenacious individuals away. It is my belief that it within one such area, that the well in question is located."

"Then why are we still sitting here? Why don't we just go and get Ron back?" Ginny spoke passionately and Harry could see tears clinging to her eyelashes. He felt his heart in his throat to such her in such distress. He could tolerate the inactivity no longer; he stood and made to leave.

"Harry, please sit down." The headmaster requested in a voice of irritating calm.

"Why? What good will it do? Will it get Ron back?" Harry knew he was being rude once more but he couldn't help it. Again he felt he was being manipulated and he didn't like it.

All at once four ghosts, the Grey Lady, Fat Fryer, Sir Nick and the Bloody Baron, entered through a large oriental bookcase.

"Good evening, Headmaster, ladies and gentlemen. We have confirmed that Mr. Weasley had been transported to the well in the Dying Dell. But he is no longer there. There was a white bath towel, identical to those used in the prefect's bathroom, lying on the dry well bed, but there was no sign of Mr. Weasley. Nor could we see any recent footprints leading away from the wellhead. It is indeed most odd." The words were spoken by Sir Nick, the others merely nodding in mute agreement.

"Thank you all. Your service has been invaluable." At this apparent dismissal the four spectres turned and left the office, exiting through the still-closed oak door.

Ginny turned to Harry once more; she placed her left hand in his right. Harry mimicked her actions placing his left in Hermione's right and Hermione copied the act. When it came to Neville placing his hand in Ginny's right hand however, he paused.

"We need Luna," he stated unequivocally.

"I think you will find she is waiting to be admitted. Minerva, if you would be so kind?"

McGonagall stood and went to give Luna entrance to the Headmaster's office. She immediately sat between Neville and Ginny and without a word being spoken the five closed their eyes to focus on their missing member.

McGonagall and Dumbledore could only sit and watch as strands of thought? Magic? Energy? They knew not what but whatever it was the strands came together high in the air above their heads and whirled faster and faster coalescing into a brilliant blue/white sphere As Dumbledore and McGonagall watched images formed for brief moments only, tantalising glimpses merging and blurring together.

But what did they mean?

The images seemed to be from above a canopy of trees, now low over a stream that emptied into a black loch. The Hogwarts Lake!

The five opened their yes and the sphere vanished.

The two professors were astonished to see five smiling faces before them.

"Well?" asked McGonagall briefly. "What did you see?"

"Trust Ron." Said Ginny laughing.

"Never does anything by the book if he can help it." This comment came from Hermione who wore a grin from ear-to-ear.

"Wicked." Said Neville enviously.

"Ronald should be along momentarily," said Luna dreamily.

Harry looked at Dumbledore and McGonagall and ran his hand absent-mindedly through his hair making it stick-up even more than normal. "I would suggest you open your window, Professor, it will be much easier that way." Harry said cryptically with more than a little glint of humour in his eyes.

No sooner had the Headmaster waved his want to open the window than a large, a very large, tawny owl flew through it to land somewhat clumsily on the back of the ornate chair behind the Headmaster's desk.

"No!" said McGonagall.

"Yes!" Dumbledore his eyes alight with mirth.

The owl hopped down to sit on the seat of the chair and a moment later it had transformed into one red-haired Gryffindor goalkeeper.

Ron Weasley had retuned to Hogwarts!


	34. A little of what you fancy

Chapter 34: A little of what you fancy 

"Please Madam Pomfrey I'll be straight back afterwards, I promise."

Ginny could hardly keep a straight face at the sight of Ron Weasley, her big brother Ron, literally on his knees begging the School Nurse to let him go down to dinner in the Great Hall. Apparently Dobby had paid his 'Mr. Wheezy' a visit to satisfy himself that he really was Ok after his abduction and had accidentally let slip that Ron's favourite steak and kidney pie was on tonight's menu. This bit of news was the sole reason for Ron's begging; his antics caused the usually stern nurse to burst into an uncharacteristic peel of giggles.

Truth be told Madam Pomfrey had been unable to find a single thing wrong with Ron, aside from a pulled muscle across his shoulders, the only evidence of his new-found animagus ability. Dumbledore and McGonagall had been astonished at Ron's transformation – hadn't McGonagall warned them all back in third year just how dangerous it could be?

The Headmaster's current theory was that the brain which had attached itself to Ron in the Department of Mysteries last June, must have been an animagus and had transferred the knowledge to Ron. The knowledge of how to transform however would not have been enough on its own; Ron also had to have been born with the ability to effect the change. Having both the knowledge and the ability was what enabled Ron to transform into the owl.

Once Ron had been settled in the hospital wing there had been a steady stream of Weasleys and Gryffindors all eager to check that Ron really was OK and unhurt.

The one person who had stayed away was Harry.

He couldn't escape the fact that as happy as the resolution had been, Ron would not have been taken in the first place if not for his friendship with Harry. Ginny had tried to challenge this assumption say Ron and Malfoy had been enemies since their first day at Hogwarts and that would have been equally true had Harry never attended the school.

The Malfoys had hated the Weasleys time out of mind and to underline that fact Ginny recalled the fight between the two fathers in Flourish and Blotts. Harry couldn't help but smile at that memory even remembering Mrs. Weasley's indignation that it had occurred just beside her, at that time, much-admired Gilderoy Lockhart!

Reluctantly Harry finally conceded Ginny's argument and they made their way to the Great Hall via the Hospital Wing to find that Madam Pomfrey would allow Ron to go down to dinner but only if accompanied.

Ginny and Harry arrived at the doors to the ward and opened them as quietly as possible. Ginny poked her head round the door then pulled it back so quickly she caused Harry to wonder what was wrong.

"Er. Nothing. Nothing's wrong. Honestly, everything's fine." Ginny's eyes were sparkling with mirth so naturally Harry's curiosity got the better of him and he took Ginny's place at the ward door which he silently opened and peered round its edge.

Ron was sitting on his bed; his long legs meant his feet were on the floor. Hermione was standing between Ron's knees leaning against the mattress edge. Hermione's arms were around Ron's neck and his were around her waist.

They were kissing, deeply, passionately and as though their very lives depended on it.

Harry ducked back out of the ward and silently closed the door. He looked down at Ginny whose eyes were still twinkling in amusement.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley." The clipped tones of Professor McGonagall's familiar voice broke the hilarity. "If you are here to accompany Mr. Weasley to the Great Hall for dinner, I suggest you enter the hospital wing and announce your arrival instead of skulking about outside."

"I don't think Ron's quite ready yet, Professor, he seems to be occupied at the moment." Harry tried, vainly, to keep a straight face.

Harry and Ginny stepped away from the door, Professor McGonagall stepped up, grasped the door handle and pushed the door open wide and entered. Ron was standing straightening his tie but there was no sign of Hermione. Puzzled, Harry and Ginny followed McGonagall into the ward.

"I see you seem to be quite fit and well after your experience, Mr. Weasley," stated McGonagall.

"Yes Ma'am," answered Ron promptly.

"It is the Headmaster's wish that I conduct some tests with you once you have been discharged from Madam Pomfrey's care. He also wishes to know whether the transformation was an escape mechanism brought about by your unexpected incarceration or if it is a permanent gift that can be effected at will. I also have no doubt that you too would like to know the answers to these questions. If the gift is permanent, and I sincerely hope it is so, then we will have to see about getting you registered."

"Professor McGonagall," interrupted Harry nervously, "do you think registration would really be wise at the moment? What I mean is Ron was successfully kidnapped and it was lucky that he managed to get away. If Ron is a full animagus then it might be better to keep it quiet, at least until Voldemort's defeated anyway." Harry had totally ignored his teacher's sharp intake of breath at the mention of Voldemort's name. It was a moment or two before she spoke in a quiet, thoughtful voice.

"If these were normal peaceful times I would most vehemently oppose that suggestion, Harry, but as an animagus myself I can, perhaps better than most, fully appreciate the true merit of that course of action. I have no doubt the Headmaster will promote the notion of keeping Mr. Weasley's new found gift as secret as possible."

"There's only one problem with that though." Ginny got the attention of everyone, including Hermione who had just walked out of Madam Pomfrey's office.

"What problem Ginny?" queried Harry.

"Draco Malfoy!" stated Ginny bluntly.

"Mr. Weasley who, other than the six of you, the Headmaster and Madam Pomfrey, knows that you were missing?" asked McGonagall.

"Er?" said Ron unhelpfully.

"Ron wouldn't know Professor, but I think the only ones besides those you mentioned and the House Ghosts, Myrtle, the mermaid in the prefect's bathroom and the portraits," answered Harry.

It was Hermione who added "The only other one to know is Draco Malfoy and his goo... friends, Crabbe and Goyle, if he told them."

"Mm, that could well work to our advantage then." As though coming to an important decision the Transfiguration Teacher continued, "Mr. Weasley, you and your friends are to go down to dinner as though nothing had happened. Give me about ten minutes before you follow me. Close observation of Messrs. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle should prove most enlightening. I'll advise the Headmaster of our plan."

The professor turned to leave the hospital wing but before the door had fully closed Ron said in a loud voice "Remind me to never play chess with that lady!"

The door re-opened and a smiling face peered back into the ward "Good advice, Mr. Weasley, just remember who used the chess board in your first year as protection for the Stone!"

The four teens stood and watched as McGonagall winked at them, smiled, said, "Check!" as she closed the door with a resounding click.

-- o – O – o ---

During his numerous stays in the hospital wing Harry had often wondered what lay beyond a particular door out of the ward, as he had never seen it used. His curiosity was therefore roused by the appearance of an unknown man through that unused door.

"Hello there," said Harry in what he hoped was a pleasant and welcoming voice as he stuck out his hand in greeting.

"Er… Hello," replied the young man cautiously. Harry guessed he had not yet reached thirty but there were streaks of grey amid his light-brown hair. There were bags beneath his eyes and a pinched, tired cast to his face. Harry suddenly realised who this person must be.

The new werewolf.

Hermione stepped forward and very formally and precisely introduced Jonathan Bracebridge to the group, all except for Ginny.

"Jonathan and I have already met," said Ginny. "How's Cynthia today? Feeling any better?"

"She's a little better each day but it's the nights I can't stand. Her sleep is so disturbed and of course she can't have dreamless sleep potion every night, as it is addictive. I just wish there was something else she could take." Frustration evident in every word.

Harry recalled the herbal remedy used at Hill House which, combined with the yoga meditation exercises, had helped him sleep. He wasted no time in offering to teach the exercises to Cynthia and to obtain the recipe for the herbal sleep remedy from Eleanor. On hearing Harry's unsolicited words of support Jonathan's face lost some of it's tension and there were unshed tears of gratitude in his eyes which he quickly blinked away.

"And how are you bearing up? Getting used to the foul taste of Wolfsbane yet?" This comment came, surprisingly, from Ron whose awareness of the needs of others had increased markedly since June.

"Oh, could be worse." The young man answered dismissively but before he could elucidate, Hermione spoke up.

"We really should be going. Professor McGonagall will be waiting for us."

"Oh, yes," said Harry who held out his hand once more but this time Jonathan took it and shook it so strongly that he almost brought a tear – of pain this time – to Harry's eye.

"Sorry. Not used to my increased strength yet." Jonathan said, sheepishly.

"No harm done, I think!" said Harry shaking his fingers while smiling broadly.

During their walk from the hospital wing to the Great Hall the four friends determined to do all they could to help Jonathan and Cynthia. They were all far too familiar with Voldemort and Malfoy's machinations and hated the idea of anyone being deliberately bitten to increase the number of dark creatures who were to do Voldemort's bidding. Jonathan hadn't asked to be made into a werewolf and they were determined to do all they could to alleviate the suffering of the brother and sister.

The Great Hall was already over half full when they arrived for dinner. As they crossed the threshold they all wanted to look at Malfoy to gauge his reaction to Ron's normal appearance but had decided not to as both Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster would be doing just that.

As they say down to eat they could almost feel Malfoy's eyes on them.

It was a quiet meal; quiet that is apart from Ron noisily eating three whole servings of steak and kidney pie.

"I'm recuperating." Whispered Ron through a mouthful of pie.

"Well recuperate quietly can't you." Came Ginny's voice in a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

"I'm just relieved he's here with us," said Hermione, "I don't care how much noise he makes."

Ginny and Harry exchanged knowing glances. Ron's noisy eating habits usually upset Hermione's sensitivity and it was a mark of the change in their relationship that she found the noises endearing instead of irritating.

The Gryffindors ate their meal with deliberate slowness as they wished to talk unobserved with McGonagall at it's end. Harry noticed his Head of House rise and enter the chamber where the Tri-Wizard champions once congregated; wordlessly he gestured to Ginny to rise and go with him, leaving Hermione with Ron to finish his second helping of apple crumble and custard.

Harry opened the door for Ginny to enter and as he followed closely on her heels he was surprised to see not only McGonagall and Dumbledore but also Snape.

The Potions Master was standing with his back to the flames in the large fireplace that took up most of one wall of the chamber. The Transfiguration teacher sat at one end of a large couch, the Head sitting in a matching over-stuffed armchair sipping what was unmistakably a large mug of hot chocolate.

"Ah. Do come in, do come in," said the Headmaster to Harry and Ginny. "Would you care to join me?" he asked indicating his mug of beverage.

"No, thank you," replied Harry and Ginny in such perfect synchronisation that it made them both smile.

Snape just grunted.

"Unless my ears deceive me, here come Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger." The Headmaster's eyes still had a twinkle present as Ron and Hermione entered the room. Ginny and Hermione sat next to McGonagall while Ron and Harry stood behind them a hand on their respective partners shoulders in a subconscious protective gesture.

"We asked you to come here for a number of reasons."

It was not the Headmaster but Professor McGonagall who was speaking. "As I said I would, I was watching Mr. Malfoy and his friends very closely when you entered the Hall tonight. Although he managed to conceal his surprise fairly rapidly, I have no doubt he was shocked to see you Mr. Weasley." Turning to the Potions Master she said, "What say you Professor Snape?"

"I concur." Snape replied in what Harry thought was the briefest possible answer to McGonagall's question.

"Come now, Professor Snape," said Dumbledore, "of those present you must know Mr. Malfoy better than any of us. Was there no gesture, glance or word that would indicate more? Can we be 100 certain that it was he who planted the portkey in the Prefects' Bathroom?"

Finally, Snape spoke. " I had not been aware that Mr. Malfoy knew how to create a portkey but in retrospect it comes as no great surprise. Nor does it surprise me that he was unable to create a portkey strong enough to breach the wards."

Snape went on to state something that came as quite a surprise to Harry. "The Malfoy family is well-versed in manipulation of individuals either by direct threats, coercion or even blackmail but of themselves they are not particularly strong magically. It therefore follows that if Mr. Malfoy created the portkey he was unable, as I say, to breach the wards. This fact leads me to believe that he was acting to his own vendetta against Potter rather than on instruction from a higher power," concluded Snape.

"By a 'higher power' I assume you mean Voldemort." It was Hermione who spoke this time and everyone could see Snape struggle to answer her politely in front of the Headmaster and McGonagall. A vein in his temple worked horribly as he eventually barked out a brief, "just so," and immediately looked down into the flames.

Ginny turned to look up at Harry her right hand resting on his right, and said: "He's just mad that you were instrumental in getting his father locked up in Azkaban."

"An accurate assessment Miss Weasley," said Dumbledore. "But what does Voldemort make of this I wonder? Has he made any indication or response to the abduction?" This question was aimed at Harry and Snape jointly.

"I've been aware of very little since I returned to Hogwarts," said Harry.

"The Dark Lord has made no indication one way or another on the matter," said Snape.

"I remember Voldemort and Malfoy Snr., saying something about the Equinox but that was weeks ago. I've heard nothing since," said Harry reluctantly.

"Headmaster do you think Draco has become a Death Eater like his father?" This question was posed by Ginny, rather nervously.

"The Order has received no notice to that effect. It may be that he intends to, rather than already has." Answered the Headmaster. "For now we have other questions that need to be answered."

Snape seemed to deliberately avoid giving his answer to Ginny's question, instead he stated: "Since you no longer require my presence, I shall return to my office, I have the inane scribblings of my third year's to decipher before I retire."

Snape inclined his head briefly to both of his colleagues but totally ignored the young Gryffindors however Ginny would not let him leave so easily.

"Goodnight Professor Snape" she said in a loud commanding voice that would not be ignored and with a stare of which a basilisk would be wary.

Reluctantly Snape paused en-route to the chamber door, saying "Goodnight" in almost a whisper before striding from the room.

Harry couldn't stop himself from grinning at Ginny, Ron raised a fist into the air in triumph but, remembering he was with McGonagall and Dumbledore, he quickly changed the gesture to a stretch. At the same moment Harry heard the Headmaster turn an unmistakable chuckle into a throat clearing cough.

Only Deputy Headmistress McGonagall and Hermione seemed not to acknowledge Snape's response. Harry thought to himself that Hermione became more and more like the Transfiguration Teacher as each year went by.

"If we have concluded our business here," said McGonagall in a distinctly reproving tone, "perhaps we should adjourn to my office to carry out Mr. Weasley's examination."

They all stood up but instead of making her way back to the Great Hall, McGonagall walked purposefully to a tapestry that hung on the back wall of the chamber. McGonagall pushed the fabric to one side exposing a very plain wooden door. Looking Harry in the eye she said very clearly so that all could hear: "Aide moi."

The solid oak door slid silently open and McGonagall led them all through.

They found themselves in a spacious passage lit by torches and ending in an archway through which the top of a descending flight of steps could be seen. The passage was lined by a number of doors which had no names or numbers upon them only carvings of very familiar and realistic-looking animals. The eagle, snake, badger and lion, so realistic that Harry saw their eyes scan the students appraisingly.

There were two other doors, one bore a phoenix - wings outstretched in flight, the other had a cross wand and bone, the same symbol Harry had seen last year at St.Mungos hospital.

Before he got a chance to ask, the Headmaster told the assembled students that this route was to be used in emergencies only and misuse of the exceptional trust placed in them would be severely punished. The doors led to the offices of the four Heads of House as well as to the Headmaster's Office and the hospital wing. Dumbledore went on to say that the stairs led down not, as Harry as supposed, to the dungeons but to the underground jetty on the edge of Black Lake where a boat for emergency use was permanently moored.

The four Gryffindors followed their Head of House through the oak door with the Lion carved upon it, closely followed by Dumbledore. It closed behind them with what sounded like a soft lion's roar.

McGonagall conjured four hard upright chairs for her students and bade them 'Sit' as though she were putting show dogs through their paces. The students obeyed automatically and silently.

Dumbledore, as he had at Harry's trial last year, conjured himself a comfy armchair in which he sat and watched, the anticipation all to evident on his lined face.

"Now Mr. Weasley," began McGonagall, "I am given to understand that you effected a spontaneous personal transformation without prior preparation or instruction. Is that correct?"

Ron's mouth dropped open and he turned to look Hermione in the face but before she could open her mouth to translate, Dumbledore piped up.

"You changed into a Tawny Owl without training and not knowing you could do it," said the Head with a twinkle in the eye.

"Just so." acknowledged McGonagall succinctly.

"Er, well then, yes, I suppose I did," said Ron, haltingly, "I mean I knew what animagi were and had imaged what it must be like but I hadn't read what you have to do or anything."

"I see. Did you ever discuss transformation with Mr. Black while you were at Grimmauld Place?" continued McGonagall.

"No," said Ron, quietly, his eyes downcast in an effort to not look at Harry.

"The inclination towards becoming animagi and the most successful proponents of the art, are those with a common inherited aptitude. True there is a lot of well documented evidence and testimony on those not able to effect a successful and stable transformation but comparatively little about successes." McGonagall was in her full teaching mode now. "In the last century there have been only ten known new animagi but, sad to say, there may be many more unregistered than was originally believed as the gift does have obvious advantages to both Dark Wizards and criminals."

"… and newspaper reporters!" added Harry, under his breath. Both teachers heard his words however.

"Reporters" queried McGonagall, a distinct frown on her face but it was not Harry who answered her but Hermione.

"We discovered …" she began.

"You discovered, you mean!" said Ginny, speaking for the first time.

"OK, I discovered that Rita Skeeter is also an unregistered animagus." Acknowledged Hermione. "She can turn into a beetle. That was how she wrote all those horrible stories during the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

The previous formal atmosphere was now completely dispelled as the four students explained Rita's behaviour and method of story gathering. "I take it," concluded Dumbledore, "that it was this knowledge that enabled you to 'persuade' Rita to write the article that appeared so successful in The Quibbler and the Daily Prophet?"

"Er. Yes." Said Hermione.

"Do not look abashed, Miss Granger. It shows wisdom to understand and to use the er … shall we call them 'weapons' available to us in a time of trial. I have no doubt that under normal circumstances you would not have dreamt of employing such tactics. Indeed the end does not always justify the means." Concluded the Headmaster.

"Just so." Added McGonagall, before continuing "now as to the reason you are all here. We have to determine exactly what Mr. Weasley experienced."

As she had been speaking McGonagall had had walked to a large cloth covered item to one side of her office. Without a flourish, the cover was removed and a large freestanding mirror was exposed. At first glance Harry and Ron thought it was the Mirror of Erised but on further examination they saw it had words carved into it's frame at the top and at the bottom. The carvings read 'Interiora Vide' and 'Quod in te est, prome!'

Harry looked carefully at the words and tried to read them backwards but they still made no sense.

Hermione just said "Oh! I see," rather infuriating everyone except the two teachers. Dumbledore merely smiled but McGonagall requested, by the simple raising of an eyebrow, an explanation of the inscription.

"It's Latin," she stated to her friends as though that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, of course! Now why didn't I realise that?" questioned Ron almost inaudibly with not a little sarcasm in his voice. Ginny and Harry just looked into each other's eyes briefly in acknowledgement of Ron and Hermione's banter but said, nothing at all.

"You are quite right Miss Granger. The two phrases are indeed written in Latin, the study of which can be most useful as many incantations; plant and potion names are derived from the Latin. In this case the phrases are translated as 'Look within' and 'Bring forth what is in you'. This mean when used correctly after imbibing the promo potion, will show you what animal form is held within your persona. The ability to transform has a great genetic element to it and not all families have it," concluded McGonagall.

Harry brightened at hearing about the inherited element, as he knew his father had been an animagus and he had often fantasised about transforming like his father and Sirius. How he hoped he could too. He hoped he'd be able to fly, as that would be both brilliant and useful. With a jolt back to the present Harry heard McGonagall warn that the opposite was also true and that in some families there was no gift and no matter how much or how hard a witch or wizard tried they would not be able to succeed.

"After all if one is born colour-blind then no amount of trying will enable appreciation of a rainbow."

This succinct statement came, not from their transfiguration teacher but from Ginny. Everyone turned to look at her, impressed. Ginny was, however, blushing in a very cute way, thought Harry.

"While we were at Grimmauld Place I talked to Sirius quite a few times about being an animagus. He told me how hard it had been for them to learn and what a surprise it had been the first time they succeeded," explained Ginny causing Harry to feel a momentary pang of jealousy. Why hadn't he talked to Sirius that way? There were so many unanswered questions and now! He felt a tightness in his throat and was grateful when McGonagall continued speaking and attention became focused on her once more, enabling him to wipe his eyes on his sleeve unobserved.

He was unsuccessful he realised when Ginny reached out silently and took his tear-dampened hand in his. He felt warmth flood through him from their joining.

Professor McGonagall, over the course of the next 45 minutes, detailed the development of the Promo Potion, the ingredients it contained and gave horrific examples of what could happen if an incorrectly prepared potion was consumed.

"For many years there was a popular myth that the races of magical beings, to which our own Professor Firenze belongs, was the result of a mis-brewed Promo Potion. This myth is correct in only one respect. The Centaurs were a part of the successful development of the potion but only their oft-overlooked skills in potion-making not by any desire to change their own appearance which, they believe, to be the perfect combination of strength and intellect.

As she concluded her lecture McGonagall had removed from a locked cabinet beneath her desk, a small brassbound, wooden casket. From around her neck she removed a fine silver chain what had a small token suspended from it. She placed the token in a matching depression on the top of the casket before tapping it once with her wand. There was a barely audible click before the casket lid opened to reveal, nestled within its velvet lining, half-a-dozen small silver-topped bottles. Each appeared to contain a small amount of a slightly glowing orange liquid.

"These phials of Promo Potion have been expertly prepared by a Potions Master. They are guaranteed to be pure and unadulterated. You need have no fear as to the safety of consuming it," stated McGonagall matter-of-factly before adding "Now Mr. Weasley" if you would take up a position directly in front of the glass."

Ron stood up very nervously, trying to surreptitiously wipe the sweat from his hands onto his robes. He gave a quick glance at his three closest friends who all smiled encouragingly at him. Hermione mouthed, "It'll be fine, you'll see."

McGonagall took out the first phial, saying, "You'll need your wand, Mr. Weasley." After a bit of fumbling in his robes Ron finally was ready and with a shaking hand he took the open bottle. She instructed, "Focus now Mr. Weasley, when you are ready, drink the potion. When it has been swallowed say 'Interiora Vide' with your eyes closed. Count to ten in your head. When you open your eyes you will see, as will we all, your animagus form reflected in the glass. Now, if you are ready?"

You could have heard a pin drop, the silence was absolute.

"Interiora Vide!" said Ron, clearly and precisely.

The five observers counted to ten silently in their heads before they took a perfectly synchronised intake of breath as they too looked in the glass and saw not a reflection of Ron but a large and beautiful tawny owl, it's wings outstretched. Ron turned his head to look at Ginny, Hermione and Harry and as he did so the owl's head swivelled round to look behind it.

"Oh, well done Mr. Weasley!" said Minerva McGonagall as she clapped her hands together in an uncharacteristic display of her obvious pleasure at Ron's success. "The image is perfect and I believe I can say without fear of contradiction that the change came from within your own persona. See how it moves as you do? It reflects your desires and movements."

"A fitting reflection indeed Mr. Weasley. Tawny owls are known as being remarkably tenacious and loyal as well as ferocious predators," added the Headmaster, smiling.

The Headmaster's comments caused Ron to smile at first but then caused him to become reflective. He placed the now empty phial into McGonagall's hand and resumed his seat between the two girls who continued to smile at him.

"Miss Granger, would you care to be next?" said McGonagall and Harry could see eagerness to try something know written all over his bushy-haired friend's face. She removed her wand from her robes with practiced ease and stood. As Hermione positioned herself in front of the glass Harry noticed absent-mindedly that the two women were now equal in height. 'Wonder when that happened?' mused Harry as Hermione drank from the second phial and said in a clear carrying voice "Interiora Vide!"

Once again the observers held their breaths for the silent count of ten. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Hermione opened her eyes. For the briefest of moments her reflection shimmered as though seen through gently rippling water, then became still.

"Oh!" said Hermione and her sadness and disappointment could be heard in that single softly spoken syllable. Slowly and with downcast eyes, Hermione resumed her seat.

It was only then she noticed an exchange of meaningful glances between McGonagall and Dumbledore. For some reason, unknown even to herself, Hermione did not post the question "What?" which she was dying to ask. The question would be asked but when she could speak to McGonagall or Dumbledore alone. Hermione became aware of Harry's eyes locked with hers and the look he was giving her made her feel acutely uncomfortable even though she didn't known why.

Once more McGonagall removed a phial from the casket.

"Miss Weasley? If you would care to be tested, you may?" said McGonagall. Ginny positively bounced over to the mirror. She was already holding her wand but Harry had no recollection of its removal from inside her robes.

"Interiora Vide!" came the incantation once more and Harry almost thought it sung rather than spoken.

1, 2, 3 … the silent countdown ended and Harry could see reflected in the glass, Ginny and only Ginny. No owl, no rippling image, just Ginny, sweet, lovely, beautiful Ginny. Then he saw a look of worry cross her face and she turned to look McGonagall in the eye. "I thought you said there was a strong genetic factor with the gift? If that's so then how come Ron can change but I apparently, won't be able to?" Although couched politely as a question the words were undoubtedly accusatory.

"Genetics plays a strong part but it is not the only factor. Look at your own family, six boys and only one girl. Why? An equally unanswerable question I am afraid," stated McGonagall.

As the Deputy Headmistress answered Ginny, Harry looked at Dumbledore and he saw the aged Headmaster staring at his clasped hands, the knuckles white with tension.

What was going on?

Harry was sure Dumbledore knew more than he was letting on but, like Hermione, Harry decided now was neither the time nor the placed to pursue the matter. He could wait.

"Harry?" It was not McGonagall but Ginny. "Professor McGonagall asked if you wanted to try?" she stated.

Harry's answer was to remove his wand from his robes and stand ready. He noticed a peculiar warmth in the glass phial as he took a hold of it. He downed the small quantity of potion in one gulp and as he stood, eyes closed, counting in his head, he realised the potion tasted vaguely like chocolate and orange mixed together.

7, 8, 9, …

The scar on his forehead stung ferociously.

… 10!

Harry opened his eyes and gasped, as did everyone else in the room!

Harry stood looking at his own reflection, but he couldn't – _or rather didn't want to – _believe his own eyes.

_For his own eyes were red, blood red, with slits for pupils!_

* * *

A/N: I figured as you have all had such a horrendous wait for me to upload a new chapter that you deserved a nice cliffie to end on. Hopefully I will get the next chapter posted next week. I say hopefully as I am due for surgery on my left knee on Wednesday and should be off work for a while, hence the chance to get some chapterstyped up. Have at least another eight chapters written and it is definitely my intention to finish this story.

Hope you all had a good Christmas and that 2006 proves to be peaceful and joyful. - _Rosie_


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